


A Place to Stay

by bluemoodblue



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Babysitting, Family, Fluff, Gen, Post-Pacifist Route, Spoilers - No Mercy Route
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:39:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemoodblue/pseuds/bluemoodblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a big family just means having a lot of potential babysitters.  For the first time in Frisk's life, they are going to learn what having a big family feels like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clear the Air (Sans)

**Author's Note:**

> First Undertale fic! Yeah! This fic ended up with more angst than anticipated, but I have never been able to resist the angst. There will be more to come, hopefully at least one chapter per character, but there's no set number of chapters or posting schedule. (So just to be clear, I'll tag more characters as I add chapters; eventually I should get to just about everyone!) Thank you for reading!

Life on the surface was an adjustment for everyone. The monsters had to adjust to the surface, the surface had to adjust to the monsters, and Sans had to adjust to the fact that time had not ground to a halt and flung him violently backwards in at least a couple of months.

He felt a little useless – waiting, for everything to go back to the beginning, for the dreams he had of a horrifying reality to come true. Everything else was moving too quickly around him, everyone else was “adjusting” and “settling in” and Sans was mostly just going through the motions to kill time before all of the progress was set back to zero.

It was disorienting that it was taking so long. And people, primarily his brother, were starting to notice. Papyrus never let a day go past without recommending some activity Sans could participate in, or encouraging him to do some chores, or anything, really, as long as it involved leaving his room and interacting with people. Sans didn’t see the point, but it wasn’t as if he could explain it to Papyrus. “I’ll socialize as soon as I can be sure it’s not all a waste of time and our present is inevitably erased because an anomaly that we’ve befriended changed their mind” would probably create more questions than Sans could deal with.

It was taking so long, though. 

“Sans! The phone is for you! Please actually pick it up this time instead of pretending that you have, it sounds very important!”

Sans rolled over on the bare mattress halfheartedly, picking up the receiver on the nightstand. He probably should have gotten out of bed a couple of days ago, but it was easier to stay. “Yeah?”

“Sans? It is Toriel. I hope I am not inconveniencing you.”

Tori. How long had it been since he’d gone to visit her? Had she noticed – was she worried, too?

“Tori, hi. It’s no trouble, what’s up?”

She was building a school, apparently, and she had to attend some meetings in the city to make sure all of the permits were approved. She was building a school, and Sans hadn’t even unpacked everything in his bedroom yet. He wondered how far she’d manage to get before she was back in the ruins and he was back in Snowdin.

“…I just can’t justify taking them so far from home so soon, and it would be very boring for them in all of those meetings…”

He’d zoned out again, just in time to miss the reason she’d called. “Sorry, Tori, what was that again? Connection must be weak.”

“I was hoping that you might watch Frisk for a few days, while I am in the city? I cannot think of a better person to care for them while I am away.”

That was exactly what Sans needed – one-on-one time with the kid, waiting for them to get bored, watching it happen. He didn’t know if he’d seen Frisk since they’d gotten to the surface. He’d like to say that it had been an oversight, that he hadn’t been avoiding the kid, but he knew himself better than that. If he’d wanted to see Frisk, he would have made the effort.

Now the effort was being made for him, and if he wasn’t absolutely ready, that was too bad. Sans couldn’t say no to Tori, and so not even a week later he found himself with the two of them on his doorstep.

Frisk hadn’t grown an inch. It shouldn’t have been surprising, but Sans had forgotten how small they were. Tori looked nice, and happy to see Sans, which was a surprise; he hadn’t been keeping up with people very well lately. “Thank you again for your help, Sans. I am certain Frisk will be much more comfortable close to home.”

“No problem, happy to have ‘em over.”

Frisk clung to Toriel tightly before she left, and Sans felt like he was intruding on something personal. But then Toriel was gone and it was just the two of them, watching each other awkwardly from across the living room. He’d forgotten how quiet Frisk could be, too.

He picked up their bag from by the door and led them to the guest room. There was a small tug on his jacket as he passed Papyrus’s room. “Nah, he’s out of town, too. There’s that convention this weekend, Undyne and Alphys dragged him along. It’s just you and me for now.”

By the time Sans ordered dinner, Frisk had finished with what needed doing in the guest room. They ate dinner. They watched TV. Frisk brushed their teeth, changed into pajamas, and went to bed. And through all of it, they didn’t say more than a couple of words to each other at a time.

Well, Sans thought tiredly after Frisk had gone to sleep, wasn’t that what he got for pushing people away? Frisk especially, who might know more than anyone else about the timelines but wouldn’t understand the sudden coldness from him. He worried about what Frisk would choose to do next, but the truth was that he didn’t know anything about how Frisk was handling being on the surface again.

Though, the kid was there now, weren’t they? Sans could check for himself how well they were doing, and how likely they were to reset. It might give him enough peace of mind to get out of the house every once in a while if Frisk seemed happy during their visit.

Sans put in more effort the next day. He cracked jokes, because Frisk appreciated his humor. He took the kid to the park and let them stay there for most of the afternoon. For dinner, he treated them to Grillby’s, which was mostly unchanged even though it had weathered a migration from underground.

It was immediately obvious that something was wrong. All day, no matter where they were, Frisk seemed listless and lost. They stayed close to Sans no matter where they were, though Sans remembered a kid who shamelessly stuck their nose in other people’s business as quickly as possible wherever they went underground. If they weren’t holding his hand, they were clutching the back of his jacket as if he might get away from them if they looked away.

Frisk was a complicated kid, and Sans wondered sometimes why the others didn’t notice. Maybe they weren’t looking for it – as long as Frisk seemed happy they were satisfied, but Frisk had a brave face. They dealt pretty well with things that made them uncomfortable. It was true underground, and it was probably true on the surface, too. Frisk didn’t complain about much. If there was something bothering them, they probably wouldn’t volunteer the information. He had the distinct memory of a tired, scared child walking down a long hallway to face a king who couldn’t be reasoned with. They hadn’t paused then to lay their worries at Sans’ feet, even though he could see the concern and fear clearly in their eyes. In Frisk’s mind, he was sure, there wasn’t anything more to say – they were going to see the king they’d come so far to see, and what happened after that was going to happen. They’d made their decision.

Frisk seemed equally decided about what was bothering them now. Sans tried to ask them questions, and was rewarded with inane information about daily life. Until the school opened, Toriel was homeschooling them, and she was a very good teacher. Undyne gave them piano lessons on Thursday afternoons, and wanted to have a sleepover with Frisk, Alphys, and Papyrus like in human movies. They’d finally managed to stay in the bakery long enough to buy a spider donut.

For everything else, Frisk was the same child that he’d talked to in the golden hallway, too small and too young to face down the enormous threat set before them but willing to do so alone because there was no other choice, and because they were determined. He didn’t know how to tell them that there was another choice this time. It might have been another fight that was only Frisk’s, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have help.

He got an apologetic phone call from Toriel one evening letting him know that he’d have a little more time in his attempt. Frisk was quiet when he told them.

“She’s coming back?”

The question was very quiet, but Sans heard. “Yeah, kid, of course. It’s just gonna take a little longer than she thought – there’s some complicated paperwork and permits and things to see to. A couple extra days at most, she thinks.”

Sans’ answer didn’t seem to be enough for Frisk; they lingered in front of him, struggling between retreat and asking another question. The question won out.

“Is it because I’m bad?”

“Because you’re bad? Kid, no, you’re not…” But Frisk had already run back to the guest room. Sans suspected the door would be locked if he tried it.

He called Toriel again that night, and between her fretting that she was too far away to do much good, she talked about nightmares. Sometimes she woke at night to find Frisk frantically scrubbing their hands in the sink, blind to everything else. They drew pictures of an alarming creature. Sometimes they followed her around the house all day.

“I know they endured many difficult circumstances in their time underground, but they are more troubled by everything than I would have expected. I don’t know what else to do, Sans. Frisk won’t talk to me about any of it.”

He and the kid were facing at least one of the same battles. It shouldn’t be a surprise that awareness of the timestreams meant awareness of all of the timestreams for Frisk, too, but it wasn’t something Sans had ever thought to ask about. 

Frisk was elusive, though. They’d caught on to the prodding, and they were deflecting with smiles and cheer that were eerily convincing. Papyrus would be back before long, and then any hope of getting Frisk alone would be gone – Frisk could hide behind Papyrus until Toriel came to pick them up, and Papyrus would only be delighted by the attention.

If Sans wanted to confront this, he was going to have to be creative. So one night, well past Frisk’s bedtime, he rooted around in storage for something he hadn’t used in a long time. He crept into the guest room and woke Frisk gently. Before they could be concerned or suspicious, he held up the telescope and with a grin, asked, “Hey kid, you wanna see something cool?”

It was the right tactic. The combination of stargazing with a telescope and being awake at a scandalously late hour were instantly alluring to a small child. Frisk was bouncing during the entire short hike further up the mountain. Looking through the telescope and finding constellations was the most at-ease Sans had seen Frisk since the visit had begun. He felt a little guilty for having to ruin the peace.

Sans leaned back on the grass. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Frisk,” he said to Frisk’s back while the kid kept using the telescope. “This is relaxing, isn’t it? Perfect thing for getting back to sleep after nightmares.”

He looked over at Frisk slyly. They hadn’t moved any, but their shoulders were more rigid, instantly giving them away.

“Nasty stuff, nightmares,” he continued, a little more confident in his strategy. “I have this one where I keep trying to make jokes, but I get the punch lines all scrambled. Then there’s the one where Grillby’s starts serving nothing but spaghetti.” He paused significantly, making sure that Frisk was still paying attention. “I think the worst is the one with this kid that has a knife. They’re all dusty, and they kind of stumble around when they walk. Weird, huh?”

Frisk wasn’t looking through the telescope anymore. They were still gripping the end of the instrument, but their gaze was firmly set to the ground.

“See, in that one, we’re all underground still, yeah? And people keep going missing. Really eerie stuff. Ever have a dream like that, buddy?”

“I…” Frisk was shaking, and their breathing was uneven. They started rubbing their hands together quickly, as though to rub something off. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”

Sans sat back up and leaned towards Frisk. He coaxed their hands apart and held them for a moment instead. “Hey now, I never said you weren’t. It’s okay, Frisk, calm down.”

Frisk took several deep breaths. Sans waited.

“I’ve had a dream like that,” Frisk admitted when they were a little less panicked. “Except I was…”

“The kid with the knife. I know, Frisk.” Frisk looked ready to start apologizing again. “You know that never happened, right?”

They were looking everywhere but at Sans. “It’s hard to tell.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They were quiet for a while. The night was peaceful in a way that was different than underground – there were soft noises like the breeze and the sound of crickets chirping that made the quiet more soothing.

“You’re scared I’ll take this away. That’s why you don’t talk to me.”

Sans hadn’t expected the turn in the conversation. “Kid –“

“I’m scared, too. That it’ll disappear.”

He looked over at Frisk. They were staring out at the sky. There was more to Frisk’s worry than what they’d admitted, but he wouldn’t push tonight. Frisk was an anomaly, unpredictable and dangerous, but they were a kid first. More importantly, they were a friend. At some point since coming to the surface, he’d lost the idea of Frisk as a person to the overwhelming concern of Frisk as an anomaly.

Frisk really needed him as a friend right now. If Sans was being painfully honest, he needed Frisk, too. It was important to have someone to call out to for help when a threat loomed too large.

“It sounds like we both have a lot to be worried about. You know what that means, don’t you?” Frisk cocked their head in question. “We’ve got a lot to lose. Which means we have a lot.”

Frisk hummed in agreement.

“We probably won’t always have it, because that’s just how it works. But we have it now. Think you can settle for ‘now,’ with all of the uncertainties that go with it?”

“You too,” Frisk insisted, and Sans had to chuckle because Frisk was as observant as always.

“Sure, buddy.” Frisk was smiling at him, and held out a pinky. Sans returned the gesture, and he felt a weight he’d carried up with him from underground lift from his shoulders. Frisk was the one who’d taught him and Papyrus about pinky promises, what seemed like a long time ago. The sacred importance of the vow had been explained with a very serious tone and expression. It was when they’d promised Papyrus that they would see him again – and Sans, and everyone else – before they had left to face the king.

And they’d kept that vow, hadn’t they?

Sans leaned back into the grass, and Frisk leaned back next to him. Sans pointed to a random cluster of stars. “Okay, kid, which constellation is that?”

Frisk stared. “Those aren’t anything, they’re just stars.”

“Oh, just stars, huh? How dull. Unbelievably boring.” Frisk giggled.

When Frisk fell asleep – a peaceful sleep, untouched by nightmares of horrible times that had never happened and never would – he packed up the telescope and carried them back to bed.


	2. Capture (Papyrus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit different from the last chapter for obvious reasons... I hope you guys enjoy it! I'm hoping to update on Sunday evenings so we'll see how well I can keep up with that. There are several more chapters to come, but I'm going to keep the exact number under wraps for now.

The future had not held all that Papyrus had imagined. His aspirations for the royal guard were cut short, and popularity was not all that he’d hoped it would be. It was different – not bad, just unexpected. 

For one thing, Papyrus had never seen his brother stutter and stammer as much as he had when asking the former queen if she would join him for dinner. He’d also never babysat a human before – he’d never babysat anyone at all!

"If you need anything, you can always call me or Tori. I think you've got this, though; the squirt's pretty easy to look after." And if Sans could do it - Sans, who Papyrus loved very much but who rarely did anything at all - then Papyrus was sure to excel.

Papyrus planned the entire evening meticulously. First, Frisk would finish whatever homework they had, and when their responsibilities were out of the way, Frisk and Papyrus would cook a delicious meal together (spaghetti, of course, being the most sophisticated of pasta dishes) and challenge each other to the puzzles in a few of Papyrus's new puzzle books. If there was time they might play a rousing game of hide and seek, because Frisk was particularly talented at hiding. They would end the evening with something more relaxing, a movie or some recorded episodes of Mettaton's TV show, before Sans and Toriel returned and Frisk left for home.

It was going to be a wonderful evening with his very special friend, just the two of them. And it was not at all a date because Sans had gotten a very strange look on his face when Papyrus mentioned the last one and then made Papyrus promise to not go on actual dates with Frisk. Apparently, there was an age requirement. Papyrus had been very embarrassed. 

Frisk was at least as excited about their evening together as Papyrus was, latching onto Papyrus as soon as they were through the door. When they were sure their affection had been received and appreciated, they spread their homework out on the living room floor even before Toriel and Sans left. Toriel laughed, kissed the top of Frisk’s head, and commented that she was very lucky that Frisk was a dedicated student since they lived with the teacher. There were a few last minute instructions – nothing too violent on TV, and no sugar past a certain hour, and Papyrus assured them that he was perfectly qualified for the task.

“Of course you are, Pap. We’ll see you later, yeah?” Sans looked happy – genuinely happy – and that was another thing that was different, but not bad.

With little else to do until Frisk was finished with their work, Papyrus sat on the couch and watched them. They worked diligently, though rather… slowly? Papyrus frowned, and leaned closer more closely observe his friend. He was a very observant friend, and as an observant friend he had noticed that Frisk was not their usual kind of quiet that evening.

Frisk didn’t like to talk much, so it was important to know what kind of quiet they were using. Papyrus had a lot of practice with correctly guessing Frisk’s quiet, even when they tried to pretend a “sad” quiet was a “tired” quiet, or a “happy” quiet was a “mad” quiet. Sans was also very good at interpreting Frisk’s emotions, and Papyrus proudly claimed his good influence as the reason.

Frisk was behaving unusually, though. They seemed at first glance to be working, but their gaze was unfocused and their movements were very slow. Papyrus would think that they were tired, but it was early in the evening and something else… did not seem right. He focused more closely, because as a good friend, he wanted to make sure that Frisk was having a good time. Frisk tensed a little under the increased attention. Ah, it was something about their mouth, almost a… grimace?

Frisk coughed. It was a deep cough and it sounded painful. Frisk froze as though they had accidentally revealed a secret. They looked up at Papyrus hesitantly.

His suspicions had been confirmed. “Small human friend, you are ill! Why did you not tell me so before?” Frisk’s eyes widened and they opened their mouth as if to respond. Before they could say anything, a bony hand had been placed on their forehead. “Indeed, you are much warmer than your usual temperature! But today is a school day! Have you been feeling unwell all day?”

Frisk shrugged. Papyrus’ eyes narrowed. “It is unacceptable that my friend is not feeling well. Fear not, Frisk, for I will nurse you back to health!” Immediately the workbook, pencils, and other activity-related detritus were swept up and removed, placed onto the coffee table. Frisk was then swept up from the living room floor and carried to the kitchen. They struggled, but Papyrus didn’t release them until they were safely seated at the kitchen table. 

Papyrus removed a thermometer from a nearby drawer. Frisk opened their mouth, resigned to the examination, but before Papyrus could remove it and check the results, Frisk did so instead.

“Fever,” they concluded with a small frown.

He hummed in disapproval at the results. “In that case, you should be comfortably resting so that you do not start feeling worse!” 

Frisk immediately protested. “But... I have homework left. And… and puzzles!”

With a small stab of disappointment, Papyrus realized most of his plans would have to change, because as eager as Frisk seemed they also seemed quite tired already. He would not be a very good friend if he pushed Frisk when they were ill. “I cannot allow it! I will put something on for you to watch, and perhaps you can take a short nap before dinner.” Something else very important occurred to Papyrus. “…I don’t suppose spaghetti will be very appetizing now that you are ill?” Frisk shrugged. “Perhaps there is something else you would prefer to have? What do humans usually eat when they are sick?”

Frisk shrugged again. “Soup,” they supplied, in a voice that was ever-so-slightly pitiful.

“Oh.” Papyrus looked around the kitchen. Soup did not miraculously appear, nor did his culinary expertise suddenly expand. “I’m afraid that… I do not know how to make soup.”

“That’s okay. I can do it.” Frisk hopped down from the chair. They found a can of soup in the pantry, and a small pot in a cabinet.

Before they could get to the stove, Papyrus snatched both items from their hands. He picked up a still-struggling Frisk, carried them back to the living room, and deposited them firmly on the couch. “You must stay here and rest! I will cook soup for you later when it is closer to dinnertime.” He turned on the television and handed Frisk the remote. Frisk was frowning and exuding an annoyed silence, but they ceased their protests.

Returning to the kitchen, Papyrus examined the can and pot closely. It was soup, and though Papyrus had not tried making it yet, it couldn’t be that difficult. It was only food in a liquid form, and would surely be easier to prepare than actual food! It couldn’t even catch on fire!

An hour later, after several ruined cans of soup of various types failed to produce results that resembled soup and there were more pots in the sink than Papyrus remembered owning, he considered calling Sans. Did Sans know how to make soup? Maybe not, but he might know where to order some from; if Sans was an expert in anything, it was fast food and food delivery. He didn’t want to interrupt his brother’s evening, however, so he decided to send a text instead.

>WHERE CAN I ACQUIRE SOUP 

There, to the point with no hint of distress, so there would be no worry! After all, everything was still very much under control.

Papyrus walked back into the living room to find that Frisk was not asleep, or even laying comfortably on the couch, but standing with an armful of homework materials, half-bent in the act of scooping them up, and looking very guilty like someone being caught stealing. They took a few nervous steps back, clutching the workbook and papers. They tensed, and Papyrus recognized the action from games of hide-and-seek.

Frisk was preparing to run off somewhere. 

“Frisk, I must insist that you put those down and rest. I am certain that Toriel will understand!”

Frisk was resolute. “I’m supposed to finish it. It won’t take long, I can do it.” Papyrus tried to take a few steps closer, but Frisk backed up again. “I’ll get in trouble if it’s late.” And then Papyrus took just one step too close, and Frisk darted away just as the smoke alarm shrilled loudly.

Babysitting was no easy task, it seemed, and it was abundantly clear to Papyrus why he had been chosen for it – who else was as prepared as him for so many unexpected challenges?

He silenced the smoke alarm and moved the newest batch of ruined soup to the sink with the rest. His phone pinged with a response from Sans (“we have soup in the pantry”) to which he responded (“I AM INCREDIBLY AWARE OF THAT, SANS. DO YOU KNOW IF SOUP CAN BE DELIVERED.”), and then he went searching for Frisk. They were very good at hiding, usually, but they hadn’t had enough time to find an ideal spot. He located them in one of the upstairs closets, almost buried in displaced linens. They allowed him to drag them to the couch with much less fuss.

“Now, I understand that you are a very good student, Frisk, but why all of this tomfoolery?” Before Frisk could answer, Papyrus’s phone pinged with a message.

>the restaurant’s sending some over. they deliver, convenient huh?

Not even a minute after reading the text, the doorbell rang. Frisk shifted to get up, but Papyrus gently, though firmly, pushed them back to sit. The deliveryman looked a bit dazed and confused, but he had soup, and he accepted Papyrus’s money. He lingered on the doorstep for several long moments after the transaction took place.

“Was there… something else you needed?”

The deliveryman looked around. “Uh, do you know how to get back to the restaurant from here?”

“…no. Somewhere in… that direction?” Papyrus motioned down the street in the direction he thought he remembered Sans and Toriel took. The deliveryman stared down the street for a moment, then started walking back in vaguely the direction Papyrus had indicated. Some humans were very strange.

Papyrus went back inside and moved to put the soup down on the coffee table when he noticed that Frisk had once more made a run for it. “OH. MY. GOD,” he exclaimed loudly, and he heard a startled clanking of pots from the kitchen.

When he entered, Frisk was standing sheepishly on a stool in front of the sink. The dirtied pots were stacked neatly on the counter, and the sink was almost full of warm, soapy water. “I appreciate your dedication to cleanliness, but this is simply too much! I will capture you once and for all!”

He scooped Frisk up for what he hoped was the last time in a single evening, carried them back to the couch, and grabbed a big blanket folded in the corner. He wrapped them securely and placed them on the couch, then attempted to feed them soup, which proved impossible until he freed Frisk’s arms enough so that they could eat on their own. When they were done, he tucked Frisk’s arms back to prevent future escape attempts and cleaned off a bit of soup from their chin. They frowned.

“I do not understand why you are so insistent on doing things when you are ill. You still have a fever, wouldn’t you rather rest?”

“I can do it. I can still do things, even if I’m sick,” Frisk muttered. Their quiet was no longer annoyed, and not quite sad, but something more serious that Papyrus did not have a name for.

He feared that his friend had misunderstood his intentions. “I know that you can! You are a very smart and responsible human, and you can do many wonderful things! But you are not well now, and you don’t have to do these things for yourself when I am here. I want to do them for you – that’s why you’re here with me this evening!”

He looked over at Frisk and hoped to see them smiling, but instead they were crying. Papyrus wanted to ask them what was wrong, but Frisk leaned closer so Papyrus held them, blankets and all, instead. Perhaps all of their running about was catching up to them, and they were feeling even sicker now. He hoped not, and he sat with them on the couch until they fell asleep.

When Sans and Toriel returned a few hours later, Frisk was still on the couch, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Sans stopped and stared for a moment. “Looks like you’ve got a Frisk burrito there, Papyrus.”

“I captured the human,” Papyrus agreed, sounding significantly more tired than Sans had expected him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it seems like Sans has some shenanigans going on with that soup you would be absolutely right. That restaurant doesn't usually make soup that would be good for a small, sick child, and the busboy didn't end up on Sans' doorstep on his own. Sans probably went back to get him later. Maybe. :P


	3. Special Training (Undyne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT LATE IT'S STILL SUNDAY IT'S ALL COOL I'M ON SCHEDULE. I am swamped with important homework and still posting this anyway, that is how thoroughly my life has been taken over. I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

The idea had occurred to Undyne even before the barrier was destroyed and everyone was on the surface.  Frisk kept stopping at the puzzle room with the piano and picking out short melodies, and when they confessed the delay quietly on the phone, Undyne almost offered on the spot.  She could teach Frisk. 

She caught herself in time, before she could say what she was thinking.  Undyne could befriend the human, spare their life, talk to them on the phone and act like the whole thing wasn’t incredibly temporary, but that didn’t change where the end of their journey led.  The future was uncertain, and though they were all hoping for a happy ending, there was no predicting what form that would take.

In the end, it was a form that included both Asgore and Frisk.  It included the surface and sunshine, a new house and a job change, and an adorable nerd of a girlfriend. It sometimes included the phantom sensation of a spear in her hand and a churning in her gut that she couldn’t explain.

It also included piano lessons on Thursday afternoons. Toriel was concerned by the reputation Undyne had earned as head of the Royal Guard, but she couldn’t find and objection to piano lessons, not when Frisk used those brutally effective eyes on her. It helped, probably, that Undyne proposed the idea after she’d dragged the little upright to the surface personally, so that Frisk would have something to practice with at home. It showed dedication, Toriel decided, even if she still seemed reluctant.  Thursday afternoons, right after school, and Frisk could take the bus almost right to Undyne’s door.

The first lesson was slow, but it was the first lesson. Undyne slapped a piece of sheet music onto the piano, and pointed to it.  “You know what any of that means, kid?”

Frisk shook their head.  “Darn right you don’t.  I’m not just gonna teach you how to play, I’m gonna teach you how to read music. And it’ll be hard work because playing music is serious business, especially when you’re starting out.” She slammed a finger down right in the middle of the keyboard, in front of Frisk’s face.  Frisk flinched.  “We start right here.  Middle C. That key is gonna be your best friend, got it?”

Frisk nodded, and the lesson began.

~~~

When Frisk knew enough to string short melodies together from where they were printed in the workbook, Undyne uncovered a fundamental difference in her and Frisk’s approach to music. Mostly, that she couldn’t hear a thing Frisk was playing.

“Yo Frisk,” she interrupted, which she only knew because Frisk’s hands were still moving over the keys.  “Where’s the passion?  I wanna feel those notes through the floorboards, punk!  That’s a forte at the beginning of that piece, and that means loud! Play with some passion!”

Frisk started over, marginally louder. Undyne sighed loudly. “Dynamics, Frisk!”

~~~

One day, Frisk sat down at the piano immediately, before Undyne was ready to start.  They opened an old piece of sheet music and slammed on the keys in a way they never had before.  Undyne lingered in the doorway and let them have at it.  Sometimes, that was what a piano was for.  Undyne didn’t ask what brought it on, even once the lesson began. Frisk would rather make music than throw a punch, and that was nothing new.

When Undyne was first learning, most of what she played was slammed out at a high volume.  It wasn’t just because she had a tendency to be loud.  Undyne remembered instances when the sight of the ceiling, no matter how sparkling it was, filled her with a restless frustration. The knowledge that she was trapped along with everyone she’d ever known wasn’t something she could get out with punches.

~~~

Undyne liked teaching.  Not in the way Toriel liked teaching, because she didn’t have the former queen’s gentle touch and nowhere near her patience, but there was undeniably something rewarding in showing someone a skill and then witnessing them match you.  It was the best part of being in the royal guard, the best thing that Asgore had ever done for her, that passing forward of something she cared so much about.  Instilling passion in someone else and watching it drive them to success.  She’d always been successful in that when training new recruits.

The “instilling passion” part of her lesson plans hadn’t gone anywhere.  “Yeah, that’s it, Papyrus!  Stir that spaghetti like the lives of the innocent are depending on your perfectly-prepared pasta!”

“I am stirring with all of my strength and skill, and though I am beginning to lose feeling in my arms the Great Papyrus will not be defeated!  Not by such delicious food!”

Undyne kicked up the heat a little bit higher on the stove, and then directed her attention to the next room. “And you!”  There was a startled jangle of soft-ish notes from the room. “Are you still playing in there? Because I can’t hear you, and if I can’t hear you you’re not loud enough!”  The music got a little louder and Undyne was satisfied that at least Frisk was trying.

Papyrus had left the realm of “trying” and barged right into “trying too hard,” and pasta was flinging out of the pot in every direction.  Undyne barely missed getting slapped in the face by a handful of noodles, and there was a second startled jangle of notes from the room behind her, this time accented by the sound of pasta making direct contact with a solid object. There were several long moments of silence.

“Just wipe it off and keep playing,” Undyne helpfully advised.  “You need to be prepared to carry on in all conditions!”  Hesitantly, the music started again.

~~~

What was great about teaching Frisk was that Frisk genuinely wanted to learn.  They loved watching Undyne play more complicated songs, and Undyne saw the spark in their eyes when she promised them that one day they would be able to play like that, too, if they just worked harder at their dynamics.  Frisk was very good about not missing lessons, either, and apparently that applied to days when the weather called for intense thunderstorms throughout the afternoon and evening, because a sopping-wet Frisk showed up on her doorstep one afternoon.

“You are hardcore, kid,” she told them, rushing them in out of the rain before they got hopelessly sick in the way that humans do. “Does your mom know you’re here?”

Frisk shrugged, which Undyne took as a very clear “of course not and I’m in huge trouble,” which was exactly the situation when Undyne called Toriel.

“Yes…  Yes, they’re with me, Toriel, it’s fine, they’re okay.”  Toriel was somewhere between an extremely concerned tone and shouting.  Undyne glanced over at Frisk, who was watching her in attempt to assess exactly how screwed they were. The answer was very, and Undyne made sure they knew it.  Frisk flinched. “They took the bus over here. No, don’t get on a bus, the weather’s only getting worse, they can stay here for the night. Yeah, I’ll get them to school in the morning, it’s no problem.”

Undyne hung up the phone and turned to look at the small child who was her responsibility for the evening. She narrowed her eyes, and Frisk seemed to sink even deeper into the couch.  “You are so _grounded_ when you get home.”  Frisk looked a little ill at the idea, but ultimately resigned to their fate.  “So, you wanna tell me what you were thinking?”

“It’s Thursday.  I have a lesson.”

Undyne sighed deeply.  “Okay, I thought it would have been obvious, but for future reference, if the sky looks like it’s falling down outside and the news is telling people not to go out, you don’t have to come.  Lesson’s canceled.”  Then she shooed Frisk to the piano because if Frisk was gonna brave a storm like that for their lesson, they were going to have the damn lesson.

Despite the extended lesson, they didn’t really make much progress.  Frisk convinced Undyne to play some familiar songs for them, and when it was clear that they weren’t going to be focused anymore, Undyne gave up and dragged Frisk to the kitchen to help her cook dinner.  They ended up camping out in the living room, watching a movie and then listening to the weather.

It was late that night when Undyne woke with the sense that something wasn’t right.  Her training as a guard kicked in and she looked around the room carefully. She noticed the faint sound of music at the same time that she noticed Frisk missing from their place on the couch.

Undyne followed the music.  Frisk was sitting at the piano in the dark, picking out notes to a melody that Undyne had never heard before.  The rain tapped lightly on the window beside the piano bench, and she was briefly reminded of the little stone statue in Waterfall, protected by the umbrella and holding a music box that was probably still playing even then.  She sat down beside Frisk on the bench and watched their progress.

“What’s this one?”

After a few more minutes, Frisk answered. “I don’t know. I think I dreamed it. Don’t remember what it’s from.”

It wasn’t familiar to Undyne at all, so it was almost definitely something from the surface.  And Frisk’s expression was deep in concentration, but obviously not hiding anything.  They didn’t recognize it, either.

It was a pretty tune, and Undyne recorded a bit of it on her phone when it seemed like Frisk had a good grasp on it. “Alphys can probably figure out what it is, and I could find some sheet music for you, if you want to learn the whole song.”

Frisk stared at the piano for a while. They were thinking about something very seriously, but they finally shook their head.  “No...  No, I don’t think I need to know.”  With that, they hopped off of the bench and walked back to the living room.

Undyne waited just a few moments longer, looking down at the recording on her phone.  With just a second of hesitation, she sent an email to Alphys.

~~~

Frisk didn’t do recitals, Frisk did surprise performances. It was never Frisk’s intention, but when they ran off to steal a few moments at the piano, anyone over at the house tended to follow behind to listen.

Sometimes, with an abrupt “Scoot over, punk!” Undyne joined them in an impromptu duet, Frisk playing a simple, repeating melody while Undyne improvised in the upper octaves.  Sometimes, Frisk would speed up a little in an obvious challenge, and Undyne would grin at them and start reaching down to their end of the piano to hit notes where Frisk was supposed to be playing. It was like a game of chase, and the more often they played together, the better Frisk got at the game. It reminded her of the underground, but in the best way, because it reminded her of how it felt to share the same wish as everyone else – the connection that made her feel like her hopes were important for a reason greater than just her.

With every note she played, the phantom feeling of the spear faded just a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: All piano knowledge in the fic comes from my own piano lessons in which I, too, was frequently reminded about dynamics by my despairing piano teacher. This was partly because I was quiet in general, and partly because I assumed that if I played softly enough, my teacher wouldn't hear all of the mistakes.


	4. Daring Escape (Mettaton)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO TERRIBLY LATE, I blame schoolwork and family issues, but it's here now! I didn't forget! I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Everyone talked about wanting to be a star, but few people realized the incredible amount of work it took to get there – harder than stealing a human soul, certainly. Thank heavens that Alphys had increased his battery power immediately after his repairs, or he would have given out and broken down halfway home.

Mettaton threw himself on the couch with a deep sigh. “Blooky, the humans are trying to kill me.” He draped an arm over his eyes so that the drama of the moment would not be lost.

Napstablook drifted quietly into the room. They had a ghost sandwich with them. “I thought… the humans loved you…”

“They do, and that’s why they’re trying to kill me. They are smothering me with love and work.”

“Is that… a good thing…?”

“It is the price of being a star, darling cousin.” It was quite a price. Meetings all the time, practices with different groups of people, running all over at all times of the day just so he could attempt to be everywhere at once, but it was paying off, at least. He was popular with the humans, and he’d never lost his popularity with monsters. It all just took up so much time, and he was glad he still had an occasional quiet moment with some of his favorite people, one of which was getting ghost crumbs all over the floor and who would be very upset about that if Mettaton pointed it out.

As if in an attempt to destroy his peace – and he barely had a few hours of peace to destroy, with how packed his schedule was for the evening – his phone rang, and the tune was peppy and very obviously in another language. Definitely Alphys, and definitely set by Alphys the last time he was at the lab. Mettaton wasn’t familiar with the ringtone because Alphys hated making calls, so if Alphys was calling him then he’d better answer.

As soon as he accepted the call, Mettaton was assaulted by the sounds of chaos. “M-Mettaton, hi, um, how… how are you?” Alphys’ stuttering was barely audible.

“I’m fine, darling,” he said, wincing and holding the phone a little farther from his face. “I feel like I should ask you the same question.”

“Oh, everything is… everything is fine.” Alphys cut herself off to ask someone to please put down the desk. “Undyne came over to help me with my research since I was too b-busy yesterday for our date… And, well, you can probably guess… how that’s going…” Alphys chuckled, and Mettaton had sudden, horrible visions of the entire lab engulfed in flames. It wasn’t a matter of dramatic vision, but of a good memory and similar call. 

He didn’t have time to fix an entire lab, but Mettaton was about to ask if he needed to go over there anyway when Alphys was talking again. “A-actually, I had a – a bit of a favor to ask. It’s not much!”

It wasn’t much, compared to the destruction in-progress at Alphys’ lab, just babysitting a small child for one evening around an already-busy schedule at an enormous studio filled with unfamiliar people and plenty of places to get lost. Mettaton agreed immediately, because it was incredibly difficult to say no to Alphys. 

It always had been, but he hadn’t been sure, after everything, that Alphys would ever speak to him again. When his batteries had given out he was resigned to the certainty that he’d smashed his last genuine friendship to bits, and for nothing. “Killer robot” wasn’t something a person could just fake, even if his acting skill was unparalleled. Instead, he’d woken to a sobbing Alphys who hugged him desperately, apologizing and asking him if he was okay, if anything hurt. He couldn’t return the hug immediately, with his arms still lying on the table beside him, but comforting words and his own set of apologies had been enough for her. 

He owed Alphys – he owed Alphys so much – even if she wasn’t the type of person who would ever hold that debt over him. And perhaps he owed her even more because of that.

So he would do this simple favor for her, and he would excel as usual and it would all be fine, everything would be fine, it was only one small human and Frisk besides, Frisk was a sweetheart and thankfully was also very forgiving of the “killer robot” incident, he would just take them with him…

Naptablook was staring at him as he stared at the phone, caught up in his thoughts. “I could… watch them tonight… I know you’re busy…”

“Certainly not, Blooky!” Mettaton did his best to exude calm and control. It was one human, and he worked with humans all the time, now. What could happen? He put down the phone and gave Napstabook a confident smile. His cousin looked slightly more appeased. “You have a gig tonight, and you’re not missing it!”

Blooky kept offering, and Mettaton kept insisting that everything would be fine until about five minutes after he had to be out of the door. “Really, darling, I want you to go out and have a good time! I’ll call you when I’m on the way home, okay? Have a lovely evening, I’ll see you later!” Anybody else might find the process irritating, but it was comfortably familiar to him. The exchange meant things were closer to normal between them, how it used to be. His cousin would help if he asked, but they were as excited about the gig as Blooky ever got about anything, and Mettaton was not going to get in the way of that. He’d spent several hours already convincing them that they were talented enough to accept the job offer.

Ten minutes and one drive that was perhaps a bit above the speed limit later, Frisk was climbing into the passenger seat and returned Mettaton’s dazzling smile with a hesitant smile of their own. “How would you like a private tour of a television studio, darling?”

“Private tour” soon revealed itself to be “wait in this chair while a crew takes gratuitous pictures of your babysitter for a photo shoot,” but Frisk seemed agreeable. Mettaton thanked his good fortune that the human who was the savior of the underground was also infinitely patient, homework out on their lap and diligently working on some assignment.

Infinite patience lasted for about an hour, which was pretty impressive for a child of Frisk’s age.

It was a dramatic head-turn that alerted Mettaton to the fact that the chair was empty and there was a small child at large in the studio. There was a frozen moment while the reality of the situation sunk in. A flash went off somewhere and Mettaton’s blank yet horrified expression was memorialized on film forever. He had time to wonder, in the back of his mind somewhere, if this would finally be the moment that would ensure Alphys never spoke to him again.

“Has anyone… seen Frisk?” If he wasn’t so caught up in the moment, Mettaton would have appreciated the comedic timing of the entire crew of the photo shoot turning to look at the single, empty chair simultaneously.

In the next five minutes, Mettaton had made it abundantly clear why he had been so successful in show business – not his wonderful acting, not his excellent singing, but his ability to have a room of near-strangers united in a coordinated effort in a matter of minutes. It was endlessly useful in choreography, important meetings, and searching an entire studio for a tiny but determined and curious child. People were split into groups and sent to specific areas, and then sent to other specific areas. The dancers, when they arrived for the choreography practice that Mettaton was currently missing, were roped into the effort immediately.

Mettaton tried not to linger on how much of his evening he was sacrificing as he searched. He had time to worry about that later, when he was sure Frisk was safe and that the entire circle of his closest friends would not be hunting him down over misplacing their favorite human. Endless visions of what could have happened to Frisk already were racing through his mind, and Mettaton cursed his vivid imagination and artistic vision because the slide show of horrific possibilities was not helping.

Blooky chose that moment to call. Napstablook always had the eeriest timing when it came to phone calls. “Hey, Mettaton… I’m all finished with my gig… People seemed to like it… I think…”

“Oh Blooky, that’s wonderful!” He tried to sound enthusiastic and not out of breath or in the midst of panic.

“Is everything okay…? You sound a little… out of breath…”

“Everything is fine, darling! You know how it is, just very busy!” Just very busy running along a catwalk, because if anyone would find their way to the most dangerous part of the studio, it would be Frisk. Maybe they had already fallen off, maybe he should be looking down instead…

“Oh… that’s right… You’re in the middle of rehearsals right now… and I’m disturbing you… I’m sorry…”

Blooky always had the strangest ability to bring Mettaton good luck, too. There Frisk was, sitting in front of him a little farther down the walkway, legs dangling over the edge and one hand firmly gripping a railing. “Blooky, I’m always happy to hear from you, you don’t need to apologize. We’ll talk more when I get home, though, okay? I want to hear all about your evening.” And absolutely nothing about his, ever again, for many, many years, preferably.

Frisk flinched when Mettaton’s shadow fell over them. A swift glance up at his expression was not reassuring. “I got lost,” they were swift to mention.

“Well. That’s not surprising, I suppose, seeing as how this studio is enormous and you are tiny. In fact, it’s part of the reason – the entire reason – that I asked you to stay in that chair.” He picked Frisk up before they could get any closer to near-death. “And now I’ve spent half my evening searching for you, not to mention everyone else whose time you’ve wasted. How did you even manage to find the most dangerous place here? And why?” Mettaton didn’t get an answer and he sighed. There was time for one more meeting, the most important meeting of the evening, and he was not missing it. He was a professional.

Mettaton relieved the search party of duty and carried Frisk with him to the office over his shoulder. He marched in and sat them on a bench, looking at them very sternly and hoping that they didn’t run off again. “I want you to stay here,” he told them sternly, towering over them. Frisk shrank a little under his gaze. “I’m serious. Don’t move from this bench. I’ll be back to get you later, but both of our evenings are going to be very long if you wander away again. Do you understand?” Frisk nodded, looking down at their feet resolutely. “Good. I’ll be back.”

He turned to walk away, the glass-walled conference room just down the hall and within eyesight, when a small, breathy sound made him turn back around. Frisk was still staring down at the floor, but their shoulders were shaking. They were crying. His anger disappeared immediately; Mettaton could never stay angry when crying was involved.

Giving in to being late for one more thing, Mettaton walked back to Frisk and crouched in front of them. “There’s no need to cry, darling, you’re okay.”

“I was bad,” they whispered.

He reached up and lifted their chin a little higher. “Well, your behavior wasn’t the best, no. It’s not okay to run off without telling anyone, especially in such a big place. You could have gotten hurt.” He wiped away their tears, hoping that a little saltwater wouldn’t be enough to cause sparks, because he didn’t need any more disasters. “I’m only angry because you scared me. Something might have happened to you.”

“But I was bad,” they insisted, “So you were going to leave me here, because I did something wrong…”

Mettaton frowned. That was a… concerning conclusion for a child to have. He’d assumed that Frisk knew him better than that. What kind of punishment was total abandonment?

“No, honey, of course not. I was coming right back, I was just going to a meeting.” Nothing Mettaton was saying was helping – if anything, Frisk was crying more. He glanced back down the hallway, where various important humans in black suits were looking increasingly agitated, watching him waste time with a child.

He looked back at Frisk, who looked truly miserable. This didn’t feel like a waste of time. Searching for Frisk hadn’t seemed like a waste of time, though it had taken his time from other things. This felt like a very important moment. The thought of walking down to the conference room with Frisk sitting alone in the hallway made him ache somewhere.

Mettaton knew about mistakes, because he’d made them. He knew about moments like this. There’d been one when he left home without telling his cousin goodbye, and when he’d sabotaged Alphys’ plan. Dreams and ambitions were fine, but there were things not worth sacrificing for them. A person probably only has so many second chances. Best not to waste one.

“Then again, a meeting sounds like a horrible waste of the evening.” He stood and scooped Frisk up abruptly. Frisk was startled out of their tears. He held them face-to-face, smiling brightly until a hesitant smile was coaxed from Frisk. “What do you say? Should we have another plot twist and make our grand escape?” Frisk nodded eagerly, giggling. The tears weren’t even dry on their face, but they looked happy now. Mettaton whipped out his phone, sauntering out of the building in clear view of the suits with Frisk on his hip.

“Blooky, darling, what do you say to another gig tonight? A private party at home, just you, me, and our biggest fan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there was any doubt, Blooky was very excited about the second gig.


	5. Distraction (Alphys)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK I'M STILL ALIVE HAHAHA... Seriously though, sorry about the extreme delay, I was caught up in finals and I had the hardest time getting this chapter to cooperate. I'm also going to be out of town next week, BUT I AM GOING TO TRY VERY HARD TO STAY ON SCHEDULE ANYWAY. If all does not go well, however, not to worry! I will return!

The bike was supposed to be a surprise. Well, to be fair, it would still be a surprise, and it would only be more surprising on a Wednesday free of holidays and birthdays. It might even be a bit of a shock, or seem like a prank.

This was a terrible idea. It was Mettaton’s idea originally, making the bike, because he’d watched a sentimental movie and apparently every human child needed a bike to have an ideal childhood. Store-bought wasn’t good enough, of course, and Alphys had gotten texts at all hours of the day and night about ideas for "improvements" to the bike, including one frantic voicemail at two in the morning about including a crash shield, because he'd watched a graphic video detailing all the ways bikers were at a disadvantage on the road. He'd forwarded the video to her in an email and she hadn't watched it, electing to just include the shield instead of giving herself more reasons to worry. She stopped answering the texts after "fog machines in the wheels" was suggested.

Now it could hardly be called a bike. It looked like one and mostly it functioned like one too, but she'd made so many improvements that "bike" was the least of it. And it should be perfectly safe! She'd tested all of its features several times and it all worked wonderfully so there was no reason to worry about Frisk getting hurt, or those few seconds of the video she'd accidentally watched before turning the entire computer off in horror, or the statistics that she'd researched against her better judgment immediately after turning the computer back on, or the statistics that she would likely be a part of once Mettaton found out that she'd given Frisk the bike while he wasn't there.

Then again, all Alphys would have to do to offset Mettaton's ire was mention the reason as Brody Carmichael.

Brody Carmichael was one of the only human children attending Toriel's school besides Frisk, which was one of the great mysteries of the world because he, along with his mother, Helen Carmichael, seemed offended by the very idea of monsters. Between Sans' PTA meeting complaints, Toriel's worries, and Frisk's frequent and righteous indignation, there was no one in their group who hadn't heard of the two. And if anyone was still unaware of their irritating existence, the Carmichaels would surely hear about it and complain at high volume immediately.

Frisk had been staying over at the lab in the afternoons right after school that week while Toriel was busy with... something. Toriel was a little cryptic with solid answers about what she was up to, and Alphys knew from experience that sometimes it was better not to know. That meant that Alphys had the privilege of being the first to hear about Brody Carmichael's reign of terror in the afternoons this week, and what a week it had been so far. Bigotry by the mouthful, spreading nasty rumors, blaming the monster children for everything he did wrong, and today asking Frisk so many uncomfortable questions about living with monsters instead of humans during a family tree project that Frisk finally yelled at him to shut up. Toriel had to punish Frisk for the outburst but she hadn't been able to pin anything on Brody, and Alphys was certain that the incident was still eating away at her. Frisk arrived at the lab upset in what was shaping up to be a week-long streak. Alphys couldn't do anything about Brody but listen to Frisk's complaints, and though she wondered how qualified she really was as an understanding listener, she could understand why Frisk might go to her before someone else. Sans had taken to calling the mother "Hellion" at every available opportunity, and while Toriel used more tact, she could be incredibly intimidating. Frisk didn't really like confrontation. Telling things like this to someone else wasn't always an invitation or request for them to fix it – sometimes it just made it easier to handle alone.

The bike wasn't going to fix it, Alphys knew, but it would be a distraction for now and something good to remember when Frisk had to go back to school the next day and face Brody again. When Frisk perked up immediately as Alphys rolled the bike into the main part of the lab, she knew she'd made the right choice.

"S-so I wasn't sure about color and I just went with red, I hope you don't, uh, mind too much, I can always paint it again if you'd prefer something else? And some of the features are a little complicated to use, so I'd really rather that you wait to use them once I can show how to... how they work."

Frisk stared between Alphys and the bike. "I can use your bike?" They sounded hopeful.

"Oh, oh no, this is yours! I should have said that first, sorry, it, it was Mettaton's idea and we've been, uh, working on it for a while, and I know I should probably h-have waited until he was here for this, or for a holiday, or…” Alphys trailed off.

Frisk’s expression wasn’t one that Alphys was familiar with – a sort of hesitant wonder. “It’s… mine? You made me a bike?”

“Well yes, I hope it’s not too…” But Alphys was cut off again because her arms were suddenly filled with a small child and a huge hug.

As soon as Frisk let go, they were bouncing. “Can I ride it? I’ve never ridden a bike before, do you know how?”

“I-it’s mostly a matter of, a matter of balance I think…” Frisk was reaching out for the bike, but not quite touching it, looking back to Alphys for confirmation. “You can go ahead and try, I-I think it takes some practice but I’m, I’m confident that you’ll get it.”

Frisk climbed on and carefully put their feet on the pedals. They held the handlebars gingerly, and then more firmly. They turned back to Alphys to grin at her, and then looked forward again with a very familiar expression of determination. Frisk pushed forward and for three glorious seconds, they were riding the bike.

By the fourth second, the bike tipped over sideways and Frisk fell onto the floor of the lab. A stream of horrified thoughts starting with “why did I let them get on the bike without a helmet what was I thinking they’ll have brain damage” barely had time to get started when the bike started beeping. That sounded like… the jetpack activation warning.

“Oh no.”

Frisk barely got out of range before the jetpacks were out and the bike was rocketing towards the ceiling. It hit a light fixture, but instead of slowing down the impact only changed the trajectory. The window didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh _no_.”

Alphys tried to remember how much fuel she’d given it. The sound of honking and screeching tires from outside and the following explosion told her that it was just about enough to make it across the street.

“ _Oh no_.”

The smoking remains, once she and Frisk had retrieved them from Alphys’ irate neighbors, could hardly be called a bike. It looked like scrap metal. Frisk’s face, when she glanced at them across the table, didn’t reveal much about what they were feeling. Probably awful – they’d been so excited, and it had only taken seconds for everything to go wrong. She’d really done a great job of making Frisk feel better, hadn’t she? Just like usual, add it to the list of times she’d screwed up when it came to Frisk.

There was a strange snorting sound. Alphys looked up to Frisk holding both hands over their mouth, their eyes wide and watering. Their shoulders were shaking and it didn’t take long before they burst out with helpless giggles that refused to abate. Frisk’s laugh was infectious, and then Alphys was laughing too, because who else would this happen to but the two of them?

When they were done – and it took a while because they set themselves off again remembering the crater that had replaced the neighbor’s tulips – Alphys pulled out her phone and asked if Frisk wanted to take a picture to show off their new bike. It was a terrible idea, and they would probably scare everyone in their social network because it was absolutely as bad as it looked, but Alphys wanted a picture. Frisk was crying with laughter, and Alphys wanted to preserve the moment. It was worth keeping, and also sharing with everyone they knew because it wasn’t every day that Frisk looked so enormously happy. She captioned it “Frisk’s first bike-ride ^_^” and Frisk nodded their approval.

“W-well,” Alphys started as they both studied the former bike once more and she ignored the almost-instant notification from Mettaton, which included several expletives, wondered if Alphys knew what a bike was, and also wondered why Frisk looked so satisfied with garbage. “I guess I should… try to fix this. S-Sorry about the bike, I guess you won’t, um, be riding again for a while.”

Frisk was still smiling. “I had fun.”

“Well that’s good! I guess that was! Sort of the point…” Alphys poked the remains, which had stopped smoking, and they let out a feeble whine. “Maybe less, um, explosions next time, though?” Frisk nodded, and Alphys only hesitated for a moment before asking if they’d like to help. Frisk bounced the whole way to the worktable.

It seemed that a consuming task was as good for Frisk as it was for Alphys, and they made a good team. There wasn’t any sound over the tinkering happening at the table and the soft music playing over the speakers that Alphys always set up before doing any work. A new song came on, and Alphys hummed along until she noticed that Frisk had grown distracted. They didn’t look so happy anymore.

“Frisk, is…”

“What song is this?”

Alphys listened for a minute. “Oh! Well, uh, it’s a human song for sure… Kind of a weird story, actually, because Undyne sent me the song in an email… not even the whole thing! Just a little bit on the piano! So I, um, looked it up but she never mentioned it again and I figured she was embarrassed so I didn’t mention it either, and, well, it’s very sweet so… I can turn it off if it bothers you?”

Frisk paused for a long moment. “No,” they finally said. “You can leave it on. It’s kind of nice.”

The nice atmosphere of the afternoon seemed to be broken, though, and then beyond recovery when Frisk asked a question several songs later.

"Alphys, are there any lies it’s okay to tell?"

Alphys glanced up. Frisk’s face looked deliberately blank. She worried for a moment that the thought was about her, but then dismissed the idea as ridiculous, because as much as she’d messed up Frisk was very forgiving. "I-I’m not sure, I suppose it depends. Has someone been lying to you?" It was probably Brody. That kid was trash, and Alphys would say so if she wasn't worried that Frisk would repeat it. It would be just her luck if Sans heard it and was banned from future PTA meetings for repeating it in front of Brody’s mother.

"I... might have. But not exactly."

Alphys looked up again, and Frisk was not looking at her. "Not exactly? So you... told a half-truth?" Frisk nodded. Alphys wasn't sure if she should ask.

"Brody asked about my human family. And I told him I didn't have one."

"...do you? Have one, I mean?"

Frisk didn't answer, and Alphys was abruptly nervous. Everyone's assumption when Frisk went to live with Toriel was that Frisk had nowhere else to go. If they did, if there were people looking for Frisk and missing them...

Then things would be complicated. There were… laws for that sort of thing. Rights that human parents would have, without question, and if they didn’t like monsters or they lived far away, then the monsters might not get to… see Frisk. Maybe not at all.

“Not really?”

It wasn’t the reassuring answer that Alphys was hoping for. It was as much as she managed, though, because just a few moments later a much more strained smile spread on Frisk’s face as they asked Alphys about what she was doing and pretended to be interested in the answer. The topic was clearly closed.

Alphys considered saying something when Toriel came to pick Frisk up, but she’d always been intimidated by the former queen, and was too caught up in wondering if it was her place to intrude. A little while after they left, though, after pacing all across the lab, she picked up her phone.

No matter his reputation for laziness, Sans answered right away. “Hey, um, listen, I know this is kind of of abrupt and maybe it’s nothing… it’s probably nothing, I’m probably just being silly, but, uh, just in case… I need to talk to you about something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a friend I would include the actual transcript of Mettaton's comment here in the notes. And so... *ahem*
> 
> "ALPHYS WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT A BIKE IS WHY DOES FRISK LOOK SO HAPPY WITH THAT GARBAGE AND YOU RUINED THE SURPRISE WHAT THE FUCK ALPHYS"
> 
> Toriel was not pleased.


	6. Quiet Conversation (Asgore)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I hope this is a good gift for you all I'M TOTALLY POSTING TODAY AS PART OF THE PLAN YEP I TOTALLY PLANNED IT THIS WAY. Anyway, there's some mention of blood and injury in this one, so if that's not something you want to see then please skip the italicized parts!

So much of who Asgore Dreemurr was consisted of who he used to be. A former husband, a former father… a former king. He still retained some of those duties, because it fell to someone with experience to negotiate with the humans, but he had a unique opportunity on the surface of recreating himself into whoever he now wished to be.

With a small, quiet child sitting at his table and calmly sipping tea, Asgore knew that he only truly wanted what he’d had already.

He had, for the very first evening since the monsters’ return to the surface, been entrusted with Frisk’s care overnight. The arrangement had been hard-earned; Toriel was convinced that Asgore could not be trusted around the human child, given his previous intentions, and he’d only managed to see Frisk during brief visits when Undyne would bring them by for tea. Frisk was very quiet, but very sweet, and the visits were both a bitter reminder of his own children and a sweet relief of old pains. He wanted to see Frisk more, and when Frisk didn’t object, Toriel could hardly refuse.

It was a trial basis, though – one evening at a time, for the time being, until Toriel was more comfortable with the idea. Not just Toriel, either, as Asgore found out when Sans appeared on his doorstep to drop Frisk off.

One eye was glowing in an implicit threat, and though Sans was smiling as always, as soon as Frisk was inside and outside of earshot, he imparted a warning. “You hurt my kid, and we’ll have an issue, you understand?” Before Asgore could argue, Sans held up a hand. “Nothing but the best intentions, I know. And I don’t really expect anything to happen, or Frisk wouldn’t be in your house right now.” He leaned closer. “But we both remember how many times they died at the hands of the king, don’t we?”

It was a thought that would not let Asgore out of its grip as he sat across the table from Frisk. He was surrounded by ghosts, and though the memory was not solid or definite, he was certain – he had seen this child, the quiet, sweet child clutching the teacup and sipping carefully because it was still hot, lying on the ground before the barrier, their sweater soaked in a pool of their blood. He did not know how such a thing was possible, but he could not deny it.

The memory made conversation a bit awkward.

“I hear you are taking piano lessons with Undyne. That must be an interesting experience, hm? Is she a good piano teacher?”

Frisk nodded. “Except when she gets spaghetti stuck in the strings.” Asgore waited for more, an explanation perhaps, but nothing seemed to be forthcoming.

“Perhaps… the garden?”

Frisk was delighted by the garden.  Asgore was not used to a child paying such close attention to his explanation of the plants he'd chosen and why, or what each required to grow.  Asriel and Chara were always too busy with their play to stop for that long.  Frisk took in everything like the flowers took in the sun, asking questions and apparently glad of the attention.

When the afternoon wore on and Frisk’s focus finally strayed, they looked at the bed of golden flowers and then back at Asgore with a question in their eyes.  They hesitated before asking.

“You may take as many as you like.”  Had he not said many times that they had the pick of whatever they wanted from his garden?  No, he supposed not.  He had not said so to Frisk, at least.

Frisk carefully plucked a few of the blossoms, and sat down with the flowers at their feet.  One by one Frisk weaved them together in a little golden crown, and placed it on their head.  They smiled up at Asgore.  “I'm the ruler of the monsters now.”

“So you are!”  Asgore played along, bowing deeply to the sitting child.  “Will you be a fair and just ruler?”

_“‘It is only fair,’ Asgore?  ‘It is only fair’ that more children will die?”  Toriel looked at him with disgust.  “I never knew that this other person existed inside of you all this time.”_

_“It is for Asriel and Chara.”_

_“Do not pretend our children are responsible for this.  Do not put this blood on their hands.”_

_Blood on his hands.  He'd killed the first, and now blood was soaking into the fur of his feet.  There had barely been a fight.  The death had almost been an accident, Asgore had reached out carelessly and there was a snap of something breaking…_

“Are you okay?”  Frisk was staring up at him in concern.  Asgore did his best to shake the memories away.  That day was long over.  He could feel the sun on his face now.  The past could not reach him here.

“Yes, little one, I am fine.  I am probably tired from a long afternoon in the garden.  It is getting late, why don't we go inside now?”

The flower crown was left abandoned on the ground outside.

It was far too soon for Frisk to have dinner and Asgore felt bad for interrupting their play, so he indulged them in a board game inside.  It was an odd game and it seemed like it was supposed to be about revenge, but Frisk was being very lenient with Asgore if Asgore understood the rules correctly.  It didn't seem right to win just because the child refused to push their advantage.

_The same child was shouting at him to stop fighting and then blood, again blood that soaked and stained his fur, and wasn't it finished yet, hadn't he given enough…_

Frisk had to bring him back to the present again so Asgore could take his turn. He won the game. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, because winning was usually followed by a pouting Chara.

After dinner, Frisk could handle the bath on their own, so Asgore had time to collect his thoughts.  He turned his small phone around in his hands.  It seemed that he had overestimated how prepared he was.  If he called her early enough, maybe Toriel would be willing to come and pick Frisk up – she had little enough faith in his abilities that she was probably waiting by the phone.  Frisk would be too polite to say anything, but they couldn't be having a very good time.  

Before Asgore could make up his mind, Frisk came into the kitchen clad in pajamas with their hair still damp.  They had a movie clutched in their hands hopefully, depicting some kind of cartoon character.  How could he say no?

Frisk barely sat still through the entire movie.  Asgore dealt with the wriggling with patience until he realized that Frisk was trying to cuddle with him using unsubtle childish subtlety.  He surrendered a hesitant hand around their shoulder. The experience was oddly silent. Frisk did not comment on the shifting action as Asriel always had, and they fell asleep before the movie was finished, leaning on Asgore and using him as a huge pillow in a way that Chara never would have.  Asgore picked them up carefully to carry them to bed, trying not to linger on how familiar their delicate bones felt in his arms, and how he knew how easy they were to break.

He watched them sleep from the doorway for a few moments.  It filled him with a bitter sort of happiness - there was one bed less than there should have been, and the sound of breathing was not what he remembered.  He’d expected to tell them a story because Asriel and Chara could never sleep without one, and he had a selection of children’s books set beside the bed in preparation, now untouched. He wondered at the fact that he was given a second chance and didn't know what to do with it.

He left them there and slept in his own bed.  His memories did not have mercy on his sleep.

_He'd run them through again, but it was not a clean wound and though their blood was everywhere the child was not yet dead. They clutched at their injuries and gaped with a horror that was too great for them to comprehend. A startled, guttural cry ripped from their throat almost without their knowledge, and…_

And Asgore was not in front of the barrier. He was lying in bed, his heart pounding, and the cry was not coming from a crying child in front of him but from down the hall – in Frisk’s room.

Asgore almost tore the sheets in his frantic effort to get them away, and his footsteps thumped heavily through the house. Frisk was sitting up in bed, panting, and they looked through Asgore as he ran into the room.

If he’d given himself time to think, Asgore might have questioned if he was the best choice to comfort Frisk, or if he should call Toriel. How many times had he held one of their crying children only to look back to her pleadingly because he didn’t know what to do? Now instinct took over and he sat beside Frisk in bed, holding them, and gently rubbing their back.

“My child, it is okay… You are safe, you are not there…” They were crying, and Asgore carefully wiped away their tears. They were muttering something about fault and blame, and hadn’t he already told them that they were not at fault for what had befallen them? “Hush, my child, no more of that. You are safe now. Hush, Chara.”

Though the tremors did not stop, the child went still in Asgore’s arms. That was unusual but perhaps tonight’s dream had been particularly difficult, perhaps Chara would need to talk about it – as much as Chara ever spoke of their dreams – before they could calm…

_The sight of human death was a horror that would likely haunt Asgore always. He could see death in Chara’s ashen complexion and still chest, and yet it looked as though they calmly slept. It seemed as though he could reach out and gently rouse them from the most peaceful rest they’d ever had, and ask them what they dreamed… but they would not dream again._

Chara would not dream again, and it was Frisk that Asgore held. Frisk, who was staring at him uncertainly. Asgore couldn’t think of what to say, and the child finally whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you should not… You should not apologize, I should do that.” How had he made such a mistake? His children had been gone for so long… “I hope that you do not think that you are unimportant to me.” It didn’t feel like enough, but what else could he say?

“But I’m not who you were hoping for.”

What had Asgore hoped for, by having Frisk over? A second chance – and that had been mistaken thinking from the start. Frisk was not a “second chance,” they were an entirely new person. This was a first chance to get to know this child, and he’d spent so much of it expecting what was familiar to him of his own children.

“Frisk, I fear I have not been fair to you. I must apologize for placing expectations on you that you did not deserve.”

“It’s okay.” Frisk wasn’t looking at him.

“No, it is not. And perhaps… I am not, either.” He had not thought of his late children so much and so openly in a long time, and it was overwhelming. “But I would like to be,” he continued, and, smiling, lifted Frisk’s face gently by their chin, “And I would like to get to know you better.” His expression fell as he noticed the tears still drying on Frisk’s face, and he carefully wiped them away. “Perhaps we could start now? Would you like to tell me what is troubling your sleep?”

Frisk’s eyes traveled all across the room. Their hands twisted the sheets. This, at least, was familiar.

“If you do not wish to tell me, you do not have to. Do whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“When something bad happens, how do you know if you did the right thing?”

How do you know, indeed, Asgore wondered. Was there anyone who could answer that question? He was certainly not the best choice – he’d been so sure of his decisions, and also very wrong. “Sometimes, there is no way to know, and sometimes there is no right choice to make. But sometimes it is easier to find the best answer if you have help.”

The twisting sheets twisted more urgently in Frisk’s hands. “I can’t… I…”

“We do not have to talk about it tonight, but if it is troubling you so much you should talk about it with someone.” Frisk nodded, but they weren’t looking at him. “Do you think that you will be able to go back to sleep?”

“Could you…” They hesitated.

“Yes?”

“Could you… sing something? That’s what Tori… Mom. That’s what Mom usually does when I have a bad dream.”

“I suppose I can try,” Asgore said, chuckling, “Though I hope you will forgive me if my singing voice is not very soothing.”

Frisk settled back under the sheets in an instant, looking up at him expectantly. This, too, was familiar, and not something that Asgore would ever tire of. He cleared his throat.

~~~

Sans came to pick up Frisk in the morning. When Asgore opened the door for him, he looked sheepish and began talking before Asgore had a chance to speak.

“Listen, Asgore, about what I said yesterday… That wasn’t really about you, so, uh, I hope you didn’t take it personally or anything, don’t even know why I said it…”

“You were worried. I understand. Parents are not always reasonable when it comes to their children.”

“Thanks for not… wait, what.”

“Frisk will be ready to go in a moment, they just finished breakfast and they are packing their things.”

“Back up a little, what are you implying? I’m nobody’s _dad_.” Asgore wondered if skeletons could sweat. Sans looked like he could be sweating, and rather profusely.

“Well, that is between you and Frisk, I suppose. I just know that your words yesterday sounded like the words of a concerned parent.” Sans didn’t miss Asgore’s knowing smile. “Besides which,” he continued, expression more serious, “You were right.”

The admission was clearly not where Sans expected the conversation to go. “Oh. Uh… really? That’s, uh, kinda… You sure about that? Cause that’s not really…”

“I was not ready.”

“To… take care of the kid overnight?” Sans stared at him for a few long seconds, and then tried to peer around him through the open doorway. “They’re okay in there, right? You remembered to feed them and everything?”

“I meant, to be a father again. At least, not yet.”

“Oh. I don’t… think I am, either.”

Asgore smiled. “No one ever is, at first. Not even when they think they are. It’s a messy business sometimes, parenthood.”

“It doesn’t help that sometimes kids fall through the ceiling,” Sans supplied, and Asgore laughed loudly. When he was done, Sans sighed. “So, what do we do now? The kid is down two dads because we can’t handle the responsibility.”

“We do our best.” Asgore smiled at Sans’ unimpressed expression, but his face fell as he remembered the night before. “Actually, I do have a concern. Has Frisk spoken to you about something that happened in their past? They had a bad dream about it last night.”

“ _Shit_.” Asgore was surprised by the reaction, and the tone of the conversation shifted noticeably. “They didn’t give you any specifics?”

“They were very vague. What is this about, Sans?”

“It’s something they said when they were with Alphys. They might have family on the surface, but they won’t talk about it and the whole thing feels… wrong.” The pinpricks of light in Sans’ eye sockets had dimmed considerably. “We’ve been looking all over, in the towns in the area, and we can’t find a missing persons report for Frisk. If they have family… then why isn’t their family looking for them? Who does that?” His words were almost a growl.

The ache for a child who had not gotten what they deserved from life was tired and familiar, and Asgore felt suddenly very old. He could only do what he had done before. “Whatever the case may be with their family on the surface, we must try to be the kind of family that Frisk deserves. They will need that from us.”

Sans stared up at him, and Asgore knew that Sans didn’t consider himself ready for the task. No one is ever really ready, but children do not wait for their guardians to be prepared for them – they come anyway, and sometimes through the ceiling.

Just then, Frisk burst through the doorway with an oversized bag hanging from their back. They hugged Asgore goodbye and politely told him that they had a good time and thanked him for the invitation.

Then they were bouncing over to Sans, babbling about half of a movie and gardening facts, talking more than Asgore had heard from them in all of his time knowing them. Sans’ face was calmly interested like normal, and he waved to Asgore as he walked Frisk back home.

They would have to do their best, because Frisk deserved that from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asgore still has a lot of healing to do, but don't worry, his relationship with Frisk will only improve from here.


	7. Home Alone (Frisk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR! So this one's a little bit different in perspective, I hope that's not too off-putting or jarring but it seemed appropriate considering the character. Speaking of the character, warnings for child abandonment and neglect (I'll try to change the tags to reflect that, but I'm not even sure I'll be able to post this when I'm planning to, so... just in case).

When you were very small, you were certain that your parents loved you with all the certainty of a small child. You could imagine many things – kingdoms in piles of leaves and grand adventures in the familiarity of your backyard – but to imagine that you were not loved was beyond your ability.

Your parents were happy then, with each other and with you. It was just the three of you, and you spent lots of time together – picnics in the park, school activities, festivals, all of them with your mommy on one side and your daddy on the other. If anything was wrong, if anything was different or not as happy as other families, you never knew about it. If your parents were very young, and there were no grandparents, no aunts or uncles or cousins to speak of, you never felt any different or any absence. Your world was small, then.

You don’t remember when the fighting started, so maybe it had always been there, carefully ignored by a childish mind. Parents fought sometimes, a lot of your classmates said so, so it must be normal. It didn’t feel normal, and when the screaming was too loud you hid under your bed, less afraid of the possibility of monsters than you were of the noise. Sometimes, the shouting was directed at you, but that was an accident. Your parents always apologized later when they shouted at you accidentally.

Your world was much smaller the day you got home from school to find your mommy crying in the living room. There were some clothes on the floor, and daddy wasn’t home yet. Daddy wasn’t home a week later, and when you finally asked Mommy, she just shook her head.

You thought your daddy was gone because he had died, because it had never occurred to you that he might stop loving you one day.

Mommy loved you. You knew Mommy loved you because she told you so, when you left for school, when she tucked you in bed, when she shouted at you accidentally because she forgot Daddy wasn’t there to shout at anymore, when she forgot to pick you up or pack your lunch, or come to your school play, when she was late getting home from work or late because she felt like being somewhere else.

She sang you to sleep some nights when she was home before you’d fallen asleep. It was always the same song and even though you didn’t know the words, you thought you would always remember the melody. It made you feel warm and safe. Even when Daddy left Mommy would still sing to you sometimes, and it made you feel like you felt when there had been three of you, like the world was solid and right.

A long, long time later you would still believe that your mommy had loved you. She loved you, she just didn’t love you enough. She loved you when she remembered to.

Your mom didn’t know how to be a mom. She was younger than the other moms and you were sure she tried her best but she was angry a lot. She didn’t like the little house where the two of you lived anymore. She was tired of not having money for things, having to stay home all the time at night, hearing the other moms say things about her that weren’t very nice. She liked to talk to you about how things would be different when life would cut the two of you some slack – you would live in a big house and have nicer clothes and better toys. She would have time to cook you dinner at home every night, and the two of you would be so much happier. You weren’t sure you wanted to move; you liked the little house, and you liked being so close to the forest to explore. But if it would make your mom happier, you would probably be okay with moving.

It was okay if your mom wasn’t so good at some things and got home late. You were very independent, she would tell you proudly, and you could take care of yourself like a big kid. You were her little trooper. It made you really proud when she said things like that, because none of your classmates knew how to cook or check that the house was locked up. They didn’t do their homework without being told and they didn’t know what time to go to bed or how to set the alarm so they didn’t miss the bus. Your mom could trust you to do things all by yourself.

You overheard your mom talking to one of her friends on the phone one night. She was really tired and unhappy, and she talked about an accident that had ruined her life. You thought she meant a car accident until you heard your name.

For the first time, you wondered if she’d ever lied to you when she told you she loved you.

Once when your mom was late getting home just because, she was very happy. She’d met a man, and he was wonderful, and he was going to fix everything. You thought of Daddy, but Daddy hadn’t been around in a long time and if a new daddy made your mom happy, you didn’t want to complain. You had to be extra good, to make up for being a mistake. You wanted to be her little trooper again.

He didn’t seem to like you much, the first time he came to visit. Maybe you weren’t being fair, because he didn’t seem to dislike you either, he just didn’t seem to care much. That was okay; Mom smiled the whole time he was at the house, and that made you smile, too.

He started to come by a lot. He didn’t pay much attention to you, but that was probably because he liked to spend time with your mom. Mostly they really liked spending time together, but sometimes they yelled. Once it got really loud and you think your mom might have thrown something. You might have heard your name. Your mom wouldn’t talk about it when you asked.

Mom was right – before long the two of you were packing up everything in the house because Mom’s friend had a bigger place a few hours away. It took a really long time to pack and you weren’t sure why, because you were finished much faster than Mom was. She was happy, then sad, and she placed things into boxes really slowly as if she was taking as long as she possibly could. She stared at you a lot, and you made sure to smile at her when she did, but that only made her look more sad. You hoped you hadn’t done anything wrong, but she wasn’t shouting, and instead of sending you off to bed when it started getting late, she beckoned you to the couch and held you tight.

“I love you the most, Frisk. The most of anyone. Promise me you won’t ever forget that, okay, baby?” You promise you won’t. She brushes your hair back over and over again. Her voice sounds strange. “It’s hard being a grown-up. Grown-ups have to make all kinds of hard decisions. When you’re older, you’ll understand. For now, just remember, Mommy loves you so much.”

The next morning, you both loaded up the car full of boxes. Everything in the little house worth keeping fit securely inside. Your mom packed you your own bag of snacks and toys to hold in the front seat, and then you drove for a long time, out of town and farther from your old home than you’d ever been before.

You were kind of excited because it was an adventure to a new place, but your mom was very quiet for a very long time. She didn’t even turn on the radio, and she kept glancing at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Eventually the motion of the car lulled you to sleep, and you only woke when you felt the car pulling to a stop.

You weren’t at the house yet, or any other place that you recognized. There was an old bus stop bench on the side of the road where your mom had pulled off. She unbuckled her seatbelt and then yours, and you both got out of the car.

“Mommy has to go get something, okay Frisk? I need you to wait for me here, can you do that?”

You look at the bench. There wasn’t much else besides it, the road, and the mountain behind it. What was it called? Your mom had told you the name… Mount Ebott, from the stories your classmates liked to tell. Slowly, you nod. You sit on the bench, and Mom makes sure you have your backpack. She’s blinking a lot, and she hugs you for a long time and kisses your forehead. She makes you promise to wait there, and tells you that she’ll be right back.

You watch her drive away.

It’s really boring, on the bench, and you’re glad you brought your puzzle book with you. You don’t have a pencil, so you try to remember the answers instead. You eat your snacks. You try not to worry.

It starts to get dark, and you can’t help but worry because you’re not supposed to be out after dark. A bus pulls up and you wonder if you should get on – what happens if you leave and Mom can’t find you?

In the end, you don’t get to make the choice, because the bus driver takes your hand and insists that you board. You overhear her talking on the radio quickly – she can’t believe you were there, it’s miles away from town and the stop isn’t even on the bus route anymore. She asks you how you got there, and you tell her your mom was coming right back. She drives you back to town. You thank her for the ride and tell her you can walk from there; you don’t mention that this isn’t the town you’re from, and that your mom drove away in the other direction. You’re afraid you’ll get your mom in trouble because she didn’t always know how to be a mom and she made mistakes sometimes.

It was a long walk, but the streets were pretty well-lit and you knew the way from there. You would wait at home for your mom to realize her mistake; she always said that if you got lost, you should try to find your way home. She would come back to get you soon.

You had to break a window to get in because the front door was locked, but that was okay. All the furniture had been left behind, and you fell asleep in your mom’s bed, with a blanket because the sheets had been packed up to take. In the morning, you found some cans in the cabinet and made yourself some soup. It wasn’t too different than when your mom was home late. You could convince yourself that she would be home any minute, just like always.

You waited a week. It was the most scared you’d ever been in your life. You were running out of food, the phones weren’t working for you to call, and nobody came back for you. You didn’t know what to do. No one had ever told you what you should do if this happened.

Your mommy loved you most of all. She’d said so, hadn’t she? So she would never have left you behind. Something must have happened to her, to keep her from coming back. You might have been the only person who knew she was in trouble. She’d been driving right next to Mount Ebott the last time you saw her. Maybe she’d tried to cross.

In your childish, panicking mind, you remembered that no one returned from the mountain, but your logic got twisted around until you decided that all the lost things, lost people, could be found on the mountain. It was the only place she could be. You packed what was left of the food. The walk back to the mountain was even longer the other way, but you were filled with determination.

You climbed the mountain. You fell.

You had never fallen so far in your life, and maybe no one else had ever fallen that far before either.  Everything you knew was narrowed to a distant shaft of light that allowed the flowers beneath you to grow, even when everything else around you was dim.  It felt like a dream, unreal somehow - maybe you'd hit your head when you fell?  But dreams weren't supposed to hurt, and Flowey's friendliness pellets hurt.

You met Toriel.  You didn't know what you were feeling when she took your hand and led you across the dangerous puzzles, but you recognized the feeling of regret when you accidentally called her "Mom" over the phone.  She wasn't upset, but your real mom would be if she ever found out.  She'd be so angry.  She'd think you agreed with your classmates' parents who said she wasn't a good mom, and she'd told you plenty about what she thought of _them_.

The guilt gnawed away at you, but you still followed Toriel to her house.  You still slept in the bed and accepted the pie and listened to Toriel's snail facts.  She was nice, and your mom didn't have to know.  You didn't think she was underground, anyway, because Toriel probably would have seen her.  You might have stayed there forever but the guilt finally forced you to continue.  Your mom might be looking for you, and you couldn't leave her waiting.

The guilt faded the farther you ventured among the monsters, and you tried not to think too hard about it. You had to keep going, you had to keep moving forward. You had to get to the surface. You weren’t sure why, but there was a deep well of determination that drove you on.

The guilt faded as you learned things underground, about what love was and what family meant. At first you thought it was a monster thing, to love so quickly and firmly, and then you thought maybe it was just something _you_ hadn’t had before. Was it selfish to want that so much that it hurt?

When you finally managed it, when you were finally standing on top of the mountain with your friends and then it was just you and Toriel, and she asked about where you would go, you said what you really wanted without considering the consequences.  And even later, when you realized your mistake, you weren’t sorry for going with her.

(Your mom must have known how terrible you really were. How could you be so happy without her? How awful. Was it any surprise that she left?)

You might not have been sorry, but you were uneasy. She might be looking for you.  (She's not, though.  She left you in front of a mountain that no one returns from.  _She left you_.) It was wrong to tell lies, and the longer you told them the harder they were to tell. Your friends started to notice, and ask questions that you had a hard time answering.

(And what would they think of you if they knew? You loved your mom, and it still wasn’t enough for you to tell the truth, because you might have to go back. What did that say about _you_?)

Maybe it wasn’t what you thought. Maybe there’d been an accident, maybe she’d been hurt. Maybe no one could help her because you didn’t tell anyone what happened. Maybe this whole thing was your fault, and the longer you were silent the worse you were making it.

The idea made you sick, and you couldn’t decide what to do. You should tell, so someone could make sure your mom was alright, but if she was, she might get in trouble. If she was, you might have to go back.

(They might not want you anymore if they knew your own mother didn’t.)

You didn’t want this to end. You loved Toriel’s house, which had enough room for lots of company to stay over. There was always someone there who was happy to have you around. There was always a place to stay.

Maybe it was only temporary, but you were holding on as tightly as you could.

It was a quiet evening, warmed by the smell of butterscotch and the soft glow of lamplight as Toriel – sometimes “Mom” when you were especially brave – sat in the corner under a lamp grading papers. You worked silently on the new puzzle book that Papyrus had given you nearby on the couch. It was quiet and peaceful and comfortable.

The doorbell rang. It had to be Sans, who’d promised to take you out stargazing that night. A couple of planets were supposed to be visible according to the news, and that was all the excuse the two of you needed. You’d been waiting for a while with your coat and scarf hanging on the back of the couch, but Sans always picked the best times for stargazing so you were content to wait. You ran to answer the door.

It wasn’t Sans. You felt even smaller than you were, as though no time at all had passed. You might have been sitting on a bus stop bench moments ago, with as little as she’d changed.

She smiled at you, but you didn’t smile back because you didn’t know what you were feeling. “Hi, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. I'm terribly sorry? Really very, very sorry...


	8. Negotiation (Toriel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY. WELL, I'M ALIVE, IN CASE THERE WAS ANY DOUBT. I apologize for the delay - school kept getting in the way, and the chapter enjoyed sabotaging itself (I cannot tell you how much I cut away for this final product, and that is definitely for the best). BUT NOW THAT I'M HERE, WE HAVE THINGS TO DISCUSS!
> 
> 1\. We are, actually, rapidly approaching the end of this story! If all goes according to plan, this is the second-to-last chapter, and the last character-focused chapter. So there will be one more chapter after this, though for obvious reasons I can't say when exactly it will be finished, only that it will.
> 
> 2\. There are lots of scenarios that have occurred to me while writing this that didn't fit the story exactly, so I'm considering doing a series of one-shots that relate to this story. They'll probably also work for stand-alone reading, so that'll be nice. That being said, if you have an idea or if there was something brought up in the story that you want to know more about, please let me know! I'd love to hear about what you'd like to read!
> 
> Thank you again for your patience, and thank you especially for your support!

On their first night on the surface, before Frisk led them into the little human town in a moment that would eventually elevate the amateur photographer who captured it to international fame, before the chaos of moving living quarters and building new ones began, before any official announcements had been made (though rumors were still moving quickly through the underground), the little group made an unspoken agreement to sleep outside.  No one could bear the thought of going back in while the sunset was still bright and beautiful, and then dusk settled with the first twinkling of stars and that closed the matter firmly.

Asgore started a fire when the evening grew cold - with a small, hopeful smile in Toriel's direction, which she carefully ignored - and the lack of dinner or proper bedding didn't seem to bother anyone.  "Anyone" consisted of an oddly appropriate group for the first monsters outside in countless years - the king, the queen, the captain of the royal guard, two sentries, the former royal scientist, and, practically one of their own by now, the small savior of the underground.  Despite stopping Papyrus from what might have been a very unfortunate first encounter with human civilization earlier in the evening, these would be the representatives of the underground. It was a strange thought.

The child who would lead them to whatever future was waiting for them was sprawled on Toriel's lap, drowsily leaning back against her in front of the warm fire.  She ran a gentle paw through their hair and Frisk sighed contentedly. Their heartbeat was a gentle, steady rhythm. She had scarcely hoped that she could have this again – family, love, hope. Toriel felt as though she had taken a deep breath for the first time in many years.

She was so afraid.

In the ruins, life was stagnant.  She'd lost hope in the future, in her husband who was so unrecognizable to her with his promises of revenge and bloodshed, in herself and her ability to protect her people who needed her (she could not even protect her own children, her desperate healing magic was useless against Chara's illness, Asriel's dust), in a world that would tear children away from their parents senselessly...

( _Did the world tear them away, Toriel, or did you poison your own child? Could you have saved the other if you were not distracted by your grief?)_

She had buried herself in an early grave, utterly certain that life had nothing more to do with her.  It was an ending, reaffirmed every time she could not convince a fallen human child to stay where they would be safe.  She could do nothing, she could change nothing, her warnings and concerns were ignored, and she felt that she was being punished, forced to love these children and then watch them die as punishment for her failure to protect the hopes of her kingdom's future.  It was a mercy when no more humans came and the ruins fell silent.

Life found her again, even in exile, with a knock at her door.  She was certain that she was mistaken when she heard it, finally losing her mind after so much time with no one to talk to but... no, there was a voice, and it was telling a joke.  The whole idea of it was so absurd that she laughed without really thinking about it. The voice was startled but pleased to find an unexpected audience, and before Toriel had the chance to understand what was happening, they’d traded jokes for hours and arranged to meet again. That evening, something in her mind seemed more awake than it had in a long time. She took greater notice of her steps back to her house, of her dinner that evening, of her chores.

Life demanded more of her than a friendship through a door; one more human child fell from the surface. They were nervous but they trusted her, held her hand and called her "mom."  She read to them, fed them, even coaxed a smile from them, and something ached in her chest.  She wanted them to stay with her, but for more than their own protection from the danger outside.  She wanted to watch this child grow.  She wanted to have a part in their life.  When they left, she desperately wished she could follow after.

She was startled to find that she was no longer satisfied with her passive, stagnant role. Even the voice’s promise to protect them was not enough; she was the only one who could prevent whatever tragedy would follow when they reached Asgore.

When she left the ruins life started again, swiftly and overwhelmingly.  She made her decision.  She'd gained so much in so little time and now, once more, she had the world to lose.  She was afraid - afraid that it could all be ripped away again, afraid because she was already so happy.

Frisk yawned and shifted position, curling up tighter against Toriel.  Frisk had made their decision, too.  It was important that she remembered that.  Despite her fears, she wanted to make a good life for them both.  For her child, once more, she would put that fear aside.

Besides, as the house was finished and the monsters began to move to the surface, Toriel began to realize that Frisk had very similar fears. They held as tightly to her as she did to them.

Frisk did not like being left behind. Once, amid the confusion and crowds brought on by large groups of monsters attempting to move their belongings (and sometimes entire houses) to the surface, she and Frisk had gotten separated. Toriel had assumed that Frisk was still behind her, but when she turned to ask them a question, they were gone. She finally found them sitting in a palace hallway in the shadow of a pillar. They did not let go of her hand for the rest of the day.

When Frisk’s unwavering attachment persisted into the first few months of their life on the surface, Toriel began to worry. She did not remember them having such an aversion to being alone when they were underground, and though she appreciated their quiet presence following her everywhere, she was concerned that perhaps her child was hurting in a way that she could not understand. She was not always able to soothe them completely after their nightmares, after all. When asked, Frisk would say nothing about what troubled them, and would sit at the table or over on the couch instead of bobbing behind her back and forth across the kitchen or curling up with her in the armchair, as though Toriel’s questions were instead admonishments for their closeness to her.

She feared that she was pushing Frisk into too much too soon by leaving them with Sans for such a long time instead of taking them with her - perhaps pushing Sans too much as well, if his scarcely hidden hesitance was anything to go by - but she returned home to a much happier child who begged her to let them go stargazing with Sans on clear nights.

She put her concerns about Frisk's behavior out of her mind, and that had been her first mistake.

Life on the surface had a chaotic kind of routine – Toriel and Frisk went to school together every day, piano lessons were always on Thursday afternoons, and Toriel tucked Frisk in bed every evening. Equally common were spontaneous spaghetti dinners, which had a large crowd of monsters around Toriel’s table, Friday movie nights, and unexpected adventures, like the time Papyrus took two hours to walk Frisk home from school because the two of them had to chase after a small, white dog that had absconded with his special attack, or the time Sans made the unfortunate decision to let Frisk decide how much ice cream they could have, and Toriel came home to the crazed expression of a harried skeleton who had finally given up on chasing the child still running all over the house.

Somewhere within the chaos, Toriel found the time to do some research and collect some paperwork. Sans saw a corner of one page sticking out from a stack of papers on the kitchen table while visiting one day. Before she could stop him, he’d pulled the paper and glanced over it. When he realized what it was, he looked back up at her.

Toriel felt the need to explain. “Perhaps it is silly, and it’s probably a little optimistic to think such a thing would be allowed officially…”

“Tori, the kid’s gonna be thrilled.” His smile was genuine. He didn’t think she was being silly. “You tell them yet?”

“I… thought it might be a nice surprise? If it can even happen, though everyone I’ve talked to has been very encouraging…”

Sans leaned back in his chair. “As if there’s anything our queen can’t do.” She stuck a tongue out at him and he chuckled – he knew perfectly well that she’d given up that title long ago. “Nobody’s gonna tell you that you can’t be the kid’s mom, official or otherwise. You already are. It’s a formality, if anything.”

She had been reassured by the thought, even when she gazed down at certain parts of the paperwork and felt an uncomfortable lurch of doubt when she realized she still knew so little about Frisk’s life before they fell underground. She considered asking them, pressing harder for the answers, but she could tell that it hurt Frisk to think about. If she could, she wanted to spare them that pain.

That had been her second mistake.

She wondered, perhaps, if fate kept a tally on a person's happiness, and intervened when that person seemed to have more than their fair share.

There was a phone call from Sans, and Toriel traded the adoption papers for endless records of missing children, looking through pictures for the familiar face of the child she already considered hers. Her child, who might have family somewhere else, who could be taken from her by a stranger even if they wanted to stay. She could not lose her child, she could not allow them to be taken away, her heart could not accept such a loss…

But how could she tell another parent, perhaps another mother, that she was more capable of raising their child? How could she be sure that she was? Sans was adamant that she was best for Frisk, but how could anyone know?

The answer was simple, cutting across her doubts and fears – she would do what was best for Frisk. For now, what was best was to learn as much as she could about Frisk’s past, to be prepared for whatever happened next. And if what was best was for Frisk to return to their first family, if that is what Frisk wanted… she would not stand in their way.

In the middle of it all, between digging through records and asking if Sans and Alphys if they had found anything yet, with the worry and pressure of time slipping away resting heavily on her shoulders, life continued. Frisk came home from a friend’s house and Toriel hid away the lists of names of missing children, asked about their day, and held them extra-tightly before bed. They baked together, and Frisk played piano in the other room while Toriel graded papers. Some days Frisk looked a little lost, or Toriel could not shake away or ignore the ache in her heart, and they sat together quietly when words were not as much of a comfort as the other’s presence.

She devoted every moment she could to the search. It was more paperwork than she’d seen in a long time, and it piled higher by the day as they expanded the search to every town within reach of the mountain. They were not fast enough; she found them first.

Toriel did not have to ask who she was or why she was there. If Frisk’s tense silence and hesitance to her turn her hug didn’t make it obvious, everything about the woman in the doorway would have. She was Frisk’s exact image but all grown up, and Toriel could have been convinced that it was Frisk standing before her in the doorway. The sight made her pause. Instead of asking any of the demanding or accusatory questions she’d had time to collect, Toriel quietly asked the woman if she would like to come in for tea.

The woman did not say anything as Toriel prepared the tea and Frisk was waiting – hiding – in the living room. Toriel took advantage of those silent moments to collect her thoughts. The woman at the table was a stranger despite her familiar face; the resemblance could not be allowed to sway her. She would be fair – fair but just. Like she would for anyone’s trial. The kitchen table, small and welcoming and bearing a small scratch from a magic spear that Undyne had carelessly placed on it, looked nothing like the broad expanse of mahogany that had been used as a negotiation table during Toriel’s reign. But then, Toriel supposed that she did not look very much like a queen. That did not mean she could not be one.

When the tea was finished the two of them sat across each other quietly. The woman fidgeted in her seat like a guilty child waiting to be reprimanded. Toriel took a slow sip of tea. “Well,” she said, resting her teacup back on the table, “I suppose we both know why you are here.”

“I’m –“

“Frisk’s mother, yes. I am Toriel.” _I have been raising your child for some time now_.

“I’m Ree.” She took a quick sip of her own tea and briefly grimaced at the taste. “I was so relieved to see that Frisk was actually here, I’ve been looking all over…”

“Oh? How strange that our paths have not crossed before now, then. We have not kept your child hidden away, you see.” She smiled lightly at Ree, and Ree returned it hesitantly. “Where are you from, Ree? Do you live close to the mountain?”

It was obviously not a question she was willing to answer. “Oh, this tiny backwards town, really close by Ebott. No one ever recognizes the name.”

“I see.” No reason to push – Ree was in the house already, and they’d already covered the missing person reports for all of the towns “really close” to Ebott. There were more important things to push for. “I am sorry to hear that your search was so long – you must have been very worried.”

“You have no idea.” Ree sighed deeply and brushed some of her hair back. “I looked everywhere. Nobody saw anything, of course, and Frisk is always so damn quiet…” She shook her head. “But Frisk is here now, safe. I… should have thanked you for that before now. God, sorry, things have just been… sort of a mess. Obviously.” She chuckled in a way that was not very happy.

“But now your search is over; that must be a great relief.” Ree only nodded.

There was another long silence. Toriel finished her tea and put down the cup. “I suppose we have a lot to talk about.”

The change from the calm woman Toriel had been talking to was abrupt and jarring. Ree was scowling just a bit into her mostly-full teacup. “About what kind of mother I am, right?”

Toriel did not show any reaction to the difference of the conversation’s tone. “I do not intend to lecture you. That would be a pointless exercise – you do not know me, you would not value my thoughts. But I do have concerns.” Somewhere else in the house, there was the light creak of a door opening.

Ree did not bother to hide her displeasure. “I don’t have to answer any of your questions.”

Toriel frowned. “Then I will make an observation. You brought no police with you when you came here tonight.”

“The police don’t need to be involved in this.” The fidgeting had returned in a hurry, and Ree sent darting glances around the room as though someone might be listening.

“I suppose I am glad that you had so much trust in our goodwill, coming alone as you have. The police will certainly be pleased to hear that the search can be called off when you tell them you have found Frisk, though. I imagine they have also been worried.”

Ree glared at Toriel. They had an understanding, then.

“I do not like the idea of separating a child and parent. You have found them, which I can only hope is an indication of your good intentions towards them. But they have family here as well. They will not be separated from that family, either.”

“You’re not Frisk’s family.” There was venom in her voice.

“I am now.” The tone, which was equally effective used with students, her ex-husband, and foreign diplomats, discouraged response. “I suppose I should have thanked you for that.”

Toriel expected threats and shouting, but there was no more protest. Ree’s eyes darted between looking at Toriel and looking beyond her, and though her scowl had not faded, she gripped her teacup like a lifeline. Finally, her gaze dropped to the table. “I don’t guess I have much of a choice, then.

It was enough. Their suspicions were validated, and it was unlikely that Ree would go to the police; their hunch, though unproven, was enough to win this small, first battle. Toriel tried not to let her relief show; for now, her loss would be temporary. Instead, in the fashion of a true negotiation, she laid out her terms for the opposing party to consider. Ree had no input or argument to contribute.

At the end of the discussion, like a student who had finally been excused from class on a Friday afternoon, Ree staggered to her feet, almost tripping herself on the chair that she had neglected to push out from the table first.  "I'll be by to pick up Frisk after school tomorrow evening, then.  Make sure they have some things, the apartment is still pretty bare."  She was in the front hall before Toriel could rise from her chair.  From the sound of the front door closing, Ree did not pause to talk to Frisk.

Part of the reason for the rush might have been the short skeleton sitting in an armchair in the living room, a spot that Ree would have been able to see perfectly from her place at the table.  His eyes were still empty, but Toriel knew that the implicit threat was not directed towards anyone still in the house. "We were too late."

Toriel glanced towards Frisk, who had fallen asleep on the couch.  "We will still see them. They will go to the same school. Their mother will… pick them up in the evenings, after work.” Toriel sat beside Frisk and brushed their hair back gently. “That’s quite a perk, isn’t it? Who could say no to free babysitting?” She smiled, but it was painful because there was nothing funny about what was happening.  
  
"Tori…”

“I am not giving up, Sans. I will never give up on Frisk. For now, this is the best we can do.” Perhaps it would be for the best. Perhaps this reunion was a good thing for Frisk, perhaps their mother was sincere. Toriel could only hope.

Toriel was used to a comfortably quiet house, but the tension of the following evening made the silence deafening.  Even safe subjects were difficult to talk about and conversation was stilted.  A small suitcase waited near the front door, and drew the attention of both Toriel and Frisk when they passed it.

After dinner, Toriel got Frisk’s coat out of the closet.  She helped them put it on, and then took their hands and knelt so that she could speak to them face-to-face.  “My child, I hope that you know I love you very much and that I would be happy if you stayed with me always.”  She took a deep breath; it needed to be said.  “But you should also know that…  I will not be upset with you if you decide you would like to stay with your mother.  It would make me happy to know that you have chosen what will make you happiest.”

Frisk shook their head.  “No,” they whispered and threw their arms around Toriel’s neck, clinging tightly.  “I don't want to go.”

Toriel returned the embrace.  “You can always come back.  My door will always be open to you.”

There was another knock at the door, and Toriel watched as her child turned from her and walked through, alone, without her there to protect them from the dangers of the world. They would leave again, and again, always with Toriel’s worry that this time, Frisk would not return, that the world would not be so merciful and her fears would be realized. Her punishment was not yet finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think Toriel would get her own chapter in a babysitting fic if she wasn't a babysitter, did you?
> 
> Also, I keep forgetting to mention that I have a tumblr! You can find me at blue-mood-blue.tumblr.com


	9. Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Runs in several months late with Starbucks* WELL. HELLO THERE. I'M, UM, VERY SORRY FOR THE LENGTHY WAIT. Things got busy and stayed busy, and even when I did have time to write, the writing didn't come easy. But I've been working hard to get this chapter to you, and I want to sincerely thank you all for your patience! It's... longer, I think, than the previous chapters, so there's that at least? 
> 
> Also, this is not the last chapter! There will be one more! Also, if anyone has ideas for one-shots related to this story, I would be happy to hear them!
> 
> Thank you again!

You didn't know how to feel.

Familiar scenery blurred beside you through the window, but it felt wrong.  You felt unsettled.  It was a school night - you should be home, in the living room with your mom, reading or working on homework.  You weren't supposed to be out this late.

Where you even allowed to call Toriel “mom” anymore?  You didn’t think Toriel would mind, but your actual mom definitely would.

You glanced to your other side for a moment before looking at the window again.  Ree’s expression was still neutral, and she hadn't really said anything to you yet.  An uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach next to the wrongness of not being home.  A part of you, a part that you had been trying to smother and hide since you answered the door and saw her on the other side, had begun to hope that she wouldn’t come back at all.  You were worried that she could tell - shouldn’t you have seemed happier to see her?  Even if you weren’t happy to go with her, you couldn’t let her know what terrible things you’d been thinking.  That would have been cruel.

When she glanced over at you a minute later, you did your best to smile at her.  You would make the best of this.  It might be scary at first, but a lot of things were scary at first and turned out to be not scary at all once you got used to them.  For now, you felt wrong.  A little sick, a little anxious, a little bit like your life was spinning to someplace outside your control again.  A little abandoned, even though you'd just been found.  But you could be happy eventually.  You could be happy and make your mom happy, and make the rest of your family happy too.  You just had to stay determined.

The apartment, when you arrived, was small but clean.  There wasn't very much in it, but it was okay for just two people.  There was no evidence of any third person ever having been there.  You didn’t ask, because the question was overwhelmingly large in your mind, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that yet.  You didn’t feel ready to ask any big questions that night.

When your things were put away - which meant your suitcase was put next to your bed, a bed that looked new and made you wonder how long Ree knew where to find you - she called you back into the living room.  Your mom was sitting on the couch and patted the spot next to her when she saw you come in.  “Just let me look at you for a minute,” she said when you were sitting next to her.  “It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen your face…”  You tried to sit still while Ree stared.

She must have found what she was looking for, because she smiled at you gently and brushed a bit of your hair behind your ear.  There was a tiny inkling of hope in you that maybe somehow, with time, this could make you happy, too.

“I missed you so much, baby.”  Her smile was small, but sincere.  “I looked for you all over but you were just gone.”  She didn't seem to know what to do with her hands - she would lift them, as though she wanted to reach out to you again, and then lower them.  “Where did you go?”  She sounded… sad.  Abandoned.  You didn't understand why she would feel abandoned.

You felt just a little bit of that hope fade away.  She must know the answer already.  Why was she asking you?  Did she think you'd meant to leave her behind?  

There were a lot of answers that occurred to you all at once, and some weren't very nice.  You didn't choose any of those - she had come back, hadn't she?  It took longer than you thought it would, but that had to mean something.  You didn't want to be there, but she deserved a second chance.  Didn't everyone?

“I… didn’t know what to do.  I went home, and then I went to find you and I… fell.”

“I know, baby, I know.”  She kissed the top of your head.  “But you're safe now.”

Later that night, curled up under the covers of an unfamiliar bed, you texted your mom  _ good night, I love you, I miss you.   _ You didn't fall asleep until she answered.

~~~

You had a new routine.  You still went to the same school, but you had to take the bus to the next town and most days you rushed in right before the bell rang.  You got to see Toriel at school and spend a couple of hours at home before Ree came to pick you up.  The weekend - the whole thing, she insisted - belonged to Ree.  There were no more piano lessons, no more stargazing excursions and no hope of any stars at all from the balcony of the apartment, and you'd given rain checks to Papyrus and Alphys so many times that you might as well have been in the middle of a drought.

You tried to text or call all of them as often as possible; you also tried not to worry that they'd finally had enough of waiting on you when you didn't hear back for a while.

The new routine didn't really work, but you did your best to make it work.  You knew that Ree wasn’t fond of the monsters - she hadn't done much to hide her opinions from you - but you hoped eventually she would change her mind.  Telling her all of the things that you liked about them hadn't been the best strategy, but you were trying.  Telling people all of the good things about monsters was something you'd had a lot of practice with.  Ree always insisted that she’d rather hear more about you, but you’d been with the monsters the whole time; there wasn’t much to say about you without talking about them, too.

You wished you could stay with Toriel all the time like you used to, but you tried not to be too upset about it.  Toriel could always tell when you were upset and it made her more unhappy, and now that your mom was back you had the chance to fix whatever you’d done the first time.  Not everyone got second chances like this, and you couldn’t waste it.  You still loved her, after all, and if you did everything right this time and proved that you were a better child now, maybe she would love you, too.  You think she used to.

Sometimes Ree went out on the weekends, and that left you in charge of the apartment.  That also left you in charge of meals, which was okay because you’d gotten a lot better at cooking between your friends and your mom.  It was one of those weekends and you were just deciding what you should try to cook when you had a fantastic idea.  People learned to cook from TV shows all the time, so why not over the phone?  It had a face chat feature, specially added by Alphys, so it would be even  _ better _ .

You checked the clock.  You were pretty sure Papyrus and Undyne had their cooking lesson on the weekend sometimes; it was worth a try, anyway.  You sent a text to ask, just to be sure.

You’d barely sent the text when Undyne called you.  She didn’t even bother with hello.  “You bet your booty we’re cooking tonight!  Skills like ours only come with  _ practice _ and  _ dedication _ .”  You started to ask if Papyrus was already there, but it wasn't necessary - you could hear him excitedly chattering in the background, asking if he could talk to you.  “So what’s up?  Jealous that your bestie is bonding with someone else?”

You smiled, switched the call to a video call, and walked to the tiny kitchen.  “Not exactly…  I had an idea.  I don't have a piano here, but I do have this…”  You flipped the phone around and panned over the spaghetti ingredients laid out on the counter.

An immediate and very loud battle cry made the speakers on your phone go a little funny.  “Aw hell- _ heck  _ yes, we’re totally doing this!  Long distance special training!  Twice the amount of kitchens means twice the  _ intensity _ !”

When you started cooking with them, it didn’t feel as though they were miles away anymore.  They might have been right next to you - it felt like they were, and you felt more at ease and at home than you had in awhile.  The phone on their end swung wildly between their grinning faces and whatever step they were on.  They kept stealing it away from each other, making sure you could see absolutely everything that was going on, and you tried your best to do the same.  The three of you threw your pasta in the pot with matching ferocity.  Next came the stirring, and as always, Undyne had you beat - at one point she was moving so quickly that some of the pasta flew out of the pot and thwapped against the phone screen.

When you were done you were panting and grinning and had an enormous pot of spaghetti to show for your efforts.  It smelled delicious.  The kitchen was a mess but you could clean that up, and besides, spaghetti was a little hard to make.  There were way more steps than soup, which you used to make a lot when you were home alone.  Like your mom would say, this was real food, and maybe something she’d actually eat.  She would be so proud to see how grown-up and independent you were, how much help you could be to her now.  You showed your friends the results on your end, and they crowed their praises loudly.

“What the  _ hell  _ happened in here?”

You flinched and almost dropped the phone into the noodles.  Ree was home early.

“I, um, I made lunch?”  Ree was glaring at you.  She looked  _ really  _ mad, and your friends had fallen silent.

“You  _ trashed  _ the kitchen.  Look at this mess!  What on earth made you think this would be okay?”  Before you could answer, and apologize because you really  _ had  _ done a number on the kitchen and you'd planned to clean up before she got home, she saw the phone still in your hand.  The glare hardened into something very cold.  “Oh.  I see.”

The sudden change in atmosphere made you nervous.  “I’m sorry I made a mess, I promise I'll clean it…”

She walked up to you and silently held out her hand.  You stared for a moment, not understanding.  “The phone, Frisk.”

“What…?”

“Give me your phone.  These monsters are obviously a bad influence on you, and I won't have that in our house.”

You hesitated.  You thought Undyne or Papyrus might say something, but they stayed silent.  You quietly ended the call and placed the phone in Ree’s hand.

Ree sighed, pocketing it.  “I hate having to be the bad guy here, but  _ honestly,  _ Frisk.”  When you didn't say anything, she shook her head.  “I have a headache.  I'm going to lie down for a while, wake me up if it’s an emergency.”  She shuffled to her room and slammed the door behind her.

She hadn't said whether or not you should clean up, and you surveyed the damage, wondering about the best course of action to make things better.  You decided cleaning would be best - it was your mess, and it was only fair.  You would be extra careful not to make a lot of noise and wake her up, because you knew she wouldn’t like that.  It didn't take very long, nothing at all like the messes at Undyne’s house.  It must have looked worse than it was.

You weren't sure what to do with the spaghetti.  You weren't very hungry anymore, and you didn't know how long Ree would be or if she'd eaten.

Ree decided for you when she got up several hours later and threw out the entire pot.  She was still cold, and didn't say much except to tell you that you weren't allowed to use the stove when she wasn't there anymore.

You didn’t understand the new rule, but you didn’t know how to ask without making her more angry.  You thought she liked it when you could do things for yourself.  You’d been allowed to use the stove as long as you could remember because you weren’t like the other kids who didn’t know better and might accidentally burn themselves.  Your mom trusted you with important things like that, and it made you feel special.  You’d made messes when you made soup, too, but your mom had never been home in time to see those.  Maybe that was the difference?

You could still see the bulge in Ree’s pocket from where she'd put your phone.  Before she went out again for the evening, you asked her if you could have it back.

“It's a punishment, Frisk, it defeats the purpose if you get what you want out of it.”  She was rooting around in her purse for something, not looking at you.

“If I don't have my phone, I can't tell Toriel good night.”  The apartment didn’t have a landline - it was the cell phone or nothing.

Ree pulled out her keys and looked down at you, exasperation clear on her face.  “I think Toriel will be okay without one good night.”  She reminded you about the stove and she was gone again.

~~~

You got your phone back the next day because you needed it for emergencies, but there were new rules.  You weren't supposed to use it while Ree was there, unless you were telling Toriel good night.  She didn't want you distracted by the phone during your time together, and that was fair.  You didn't want to be rude.  You sent reassurances back to the several concerned messages you'd received during your phone’s absence.  When Undyne and Papyrus both asked about the quality of your spaghetti, you lied and told them it was the best batch you'd ever made.

~~~

The phone rang, snapping Alphys back to reality and away from staring, trance-like, at the same document for ten minutes.  The first thing she registered was that the caller was not Frisk, which was the reaction a lot of monsters she knew had to phone calls now that Frisk called so much less often.  Instead, it was Sans.

“Please tell me you have something,” Alphys groaned, rubbing her face.

“I'm actually calling about something that's missing.”  He sounded as tired as she felt.  “Papyrus said something about a… rescue mission, maybe half an hour ago?  Capturing the human, or something.  I dunno, it went in one ear and out the other, but I'm pretty sure I heard Undyne’s name and I was hoping he was with you…”

Alphys looked up and around the lab.  It was quiet, which could only mean one thing.  “They're not here.”

“Shit.”

Alphys groaned.  She already knew the answer, but she had to ask anyway and give herself one last moment of denial.  “Any chance they'll think better of it before they get there and turn around?”

“Your girlfriend spent several consecutive months living on my couch because she didn't think better of how to cook spaghetti after the first time she burned down her house.”

Yeah, she didn't think so.  “I'll call Mettaton.  He's got road rage and is well-rested.”

“That's all we can really ask for from a knight in shining metal plating.”

~~~

You’d gone out to get something to eat - Ree was out and you were just going down the street, plus you had your phone on you and you’d left a note in case she got back earlier, so you hoped that would be okay.  There wasn't much in the apartment to eat that you didn't need the stove for.  She hadn’t said if the ban was lifted yet, and you didn’t want to take a chance and upset her.

You were a few steps away from the fast food place when someone grabbed you from behind.

“I have captured the human!”  You giggled as Papyrus spun you around enthusiastically.  You didn't know how he was there and you didn't care, because somehow he was.  Undyne came running up seconds later and tackled into both of you with one of her ferocious hugs.

“Good work, Papyrus!  Phase one of the rescue mission is a success!”  She gave both of you noogies despite half-hearted protests.

“What are you doing here?”  Papyrus was still holding onto you, and all thoughts of lunch were gone.

Undyne reached over and ruffled your hair.  “Didn't you hear me just now, punk?  We're your rescue team, and it looks like we got here just in time!  What the heck were you doing wandering around alone, huh?”  Her grin was wide and vaguely menacing, and you thought that someone who didn't know her so well might have missed the slight undercurrent of concern there.

Instead of talking about Ree, which you knew she was really asking about, you pointed at the fast food place.  Papyrus groaned.  “You are starting to pick up on my brother’s tastes, and I do not approve at all.  So much grease!  You are more in need of rescue than I had suspected.”  He narrowed his eyesockets at you.  “I worried this might be the case.  Therefore!  In preparation I have researched several suitable eateries in the area!  Allow us to escort you there and ensure your proper nutrition!”

Oh, that would  _ definitely  _ not be allowed.  If your mom had any idea of who you were with right at that moment, you might lose your phone again.  But the idea was more than a little tempting.  You'd have enough time for lunch, Ree wouldn't be back for a while.  If you told them no, they might start asking questions.  Even worse, they might be hurt by your refusal.

And you really,  _ really  _ didn’t want them to go.

You nodded, smiling, and Papyrus whooped and carried you to his car, still not having put you down after your capture.  The entire ride to the restaurant - reasonably-priced Italian, as if it would be anything else - was filled with a lot of enthusiastic hollering from both of them about their day-to-day lives.  Even the more mundane stories were made more exciting by the overwhelming volume.  The food at the restaurant was delicious; you encouraged both of them to try the lasagna.  Before… everything, you'd been trying to broaden their horizons whenever all of you went out for dinner.

You kept your focus on your friends through the whole meal, but when you pulled out your phone on the way out just to make sure, there weren't any missed messages or calls.  Your hesitation didn't go unnoticed by Undyne.  She frowned at you gently, but she waited until all of you were back in the car to speak.

It seemed that this was part two of the rescue mission, because they both turned to look at you at the same time.  “So Frisk, you haven’t told us any of your stories.  What’s it like living in a swanky apartment?”

“Um.  The building’s big, but the apartment’s… regular.  Pretty normal for an apartment, I think?”  They continued looking at you, like they expected that you would have more to say.  You probably should, but not much had been going on.  You and your mom didn’t get out very much on your weekends together.  Both of you were still adjusting to the change.

“Uh, yeah.  Okay.”  Undyne shot Papyrus a doubtful look.  “I bet it’s just a bunch of wimpy hugging and crying around the place these days, huh?”  Her smile brightened a little, sensing an opportunity to tease you.

“There’s some hugging I guess?”  Before she left Ree always gave you a hug and a kiss, and you liked that.  You’d always loved her attention because her attention was special.

“Some, you guess?”  She had a weird expression on her face, and you didn’t know what to make of it.  You looked over at Papyrus, but he was busy looking back and forth between the two of you, also a little thrown.  

Not sure of the answer she was looking for, you shrugged.  Undyne definitely didn’t like that, her mouth twisting around into almost a snarl.  “Well that’s just peachy, isn’t it?  We never see you and we barely ever talk to you, all so your mom - who just popped up outta nowhere - can hug you sometimes!  What a great trade-off!  I mean I wouldn’t call my bestie either if it meant I could spend more time hugging random strangers!”

You shrunk down a little in your seat as Undyne’s voice got louder.  Papyrus reached out to stop her, but it seemed like she was done.  She faced back towards the front of the car and slammed her back against the seat with a whump.  There was a long, tense silence in the car.

Papyrus finally broke the silence.  “Undyne, I know you are not angry with Frisk.  We did not come here to yell at them.”

A few more seconds of silence, and you could feel the tension leave Undyne in one big, whooshing sigh.  “Yeah, I know.”  She turned to face back towards you again.  “Sorry about that, punk.  It’s weird to just never see you all of a sudden.  We miss you.”  She sounded genuine, and you smiled at her.

Papyrus brightened immediately, obviously satisfied with the return of friendly feelings.  “And that shall not be a problem any longer, because Undyne and I have come to rescue you!  Then we will see each other all the time, like we did before!”

“Yeah!”  Every ounce of negativity evaporated from Undyne immediately.  “You better be ready for some extra-intense special training, because you are gonna make up for every single lesson you missed!  No slacking off!”  Her usual goofy grin in place, Undyne pointed at you dramatically.  “We are taking you home right now!”

This was the part where you were supposed to cheer and celebrate your freedom with them - you could tell from the expectant expressions they had both directed at you.  You missed your cue because, as much as that sounded like a wonderful idea, you were confused.  “It’s still the weekend, though.”

“Yeah, and…?”  Undyne’s smile was quickly becoming strained.

“I'm supposed to stay with Ree on the weekends.”

Before Undyne could start yelling again, Papyrus spoke up.  “Don't you want to come with us, Frisk?”

“I…  I want to, but I can't.”

Papyrus’s voice was very soft.  “Why can't you?”

You twisted your hands together uncomfortably.  “I just got her back and I, I have to try."

This time, Undyne’s rage was interrupted by screeching tires as a bright pink vehicle sped by and turned suddenly to cut Papyrus’s car off.  It struck you as an unnecessarily dramatic move, as Papyrus’s car was still parked on the side of the road.  Undyne spit out a word that you were definitely not supposed to hear.

The driver’s side door swung open abruptly and suddenly there was a killer robot stomping in your direction with a murderous expression.

“You have upset Alphys!”  The expression was clearly not meant for you as Mettaton’s gaze homed in on Undyne in the front passenger seat.  “She has slaved over paperwork and records day and night, sacrificing her sleep and well-being, but oh, you know so much better than her, don't you!”

Undyne almost took the door off the car in her struggle to get free.  “You have some nerve showing up here like you're gonna stop us when all you’ve done to ‘help’ is swoon all over the furniture!”  Papyrus frantically clawed at his own door handle in an effort to diffuse the situation yet again.  You wondered if you were better off in the car or out of it.  “Don't try to act like you know better than me!”

“I  _ do  _ know better than you, and I have a very  _ long  _ history of knowing better than you!  I have contributed an entire  _ team  _ of lawyers to this effort -”

“And they're so much help, aren't they, with Alphys and Sans still doing all of the heavy work!”

“ _ They  _ advised very strongly against this vigilante effort you proposed, which might I remind you, Alphys agreed with wholeheartedly!  Because we need to approach the situation with some delicacy and _ tact _ , which you are clearly incapable of!”

Papyrus had managed to exit the car, but he hesitated abruptly, looking between you and the argument happening outside.  You weren’t sure why he stopped, but instead of intervening he was pulling the back door open and crawling in next to you.  He had you in his lap in a moment, whispering soft reassurances to you and delicately wiping away your tears.  You hadn’t realized you were crying.

“Sh, my small friend, it will be okay.  Everything will be okay.  They will stop yelling soon, and then we will go out for ice cream!  Please do not be upset, we only wanted to make you happy!  We did not mean to put you in such a difficult place…”

The yelling outside and the whispers in your ear continued until, suddenly, you heard silence.  You looked up; Undyne had been yelling last, and you could see her arm extended to gesture back at you.  She was staring at you through the windshield, caught off-guard, and her face was grimacing with apparent guilt.  Leaving Mettaton spluttering behind her, she opened the other back door.

“Are they… okay, Papyrus?”

You’d stopped crying, but your expression probably wasn’t very reassuring.  You tried smiling, and it sort of worked.

Papyrus looked down at you, and then back up at Undyne.  “I do not think this was a very good plan, Undyne.”

She sighed.  “No, I guess not.”

As promised, you all did go out for ice cream, though you only went through a drive-thru and the atmosphere in the car was tense with Mettaton sitting next to you in the back and Undyne ignoring him in the front.  Papyrus did his best to remain loudly cheerful, and you appreciated his effort.  The conversation distracted you from that little niggling doubt in your head about how, when your first family fell apart, it also started with yelling.

When Papyrus pulled up next to your apartment building, Mettaton got out of the car with you.  Undyne looked at him suspiciously over her shoulder, and he glared back.  “I don’t want to hear a word.  You got to eat lunch with Frisk, I am at least going to walk them to the door.”  She scoffed, but she didn’t argue.

True to his word, he took your hand gently and made the very short walk with you.  Before you could open the door to go in, though, he crouched down until you were almost the same height.  “Now, darling, I want you to banish all those thoughts you’re having about that little disagreement being your fault.”

Had you been that obvious?  “I don’t -”

“Darling.”  He squeezed your hands gently.  “I’ve known my cousin for a long time, and I recognize that face you’re making.  That face,” he poked you gently on the nose, and you smiled just a little big, “is the face of someone feeling guilty.  That is entirely unacceptable and I won’t have it.”

“But, you and Undyne were so angry, and you wouldn’t have been angry if not for me.”

He sighed.  “We’re not angry, we’re just worried.  But we’ll do our best to keep the yelling to a minimum from now on.  Sound fair?”  You nodded and he smiled and stood back at his full height.  “Well then, I suppose it’s time you went back to your mother.  I’m sure she’s been missing you.”

You weren’t as sure, but it was a nice thought.

~~~

“Sans?”

He’d been waiting for the question most of the afternoon, since Papyrus had gotten back from the rescue mission disappointed and subdued.  Undyne’s frustration had reached a boiling point after that stunt Ree pulled with Frisk’s phone and things had only gotten worse when Frisk started calling less.  None of it was very encouraging, and while Sans understood why the plan of “just take the kid and run” was not their best option, he couldn’t fault Undyne and Papyrus for trying.  It was what all of them really wanted to do, after all.  

According to what Undyne told Alphys, things had gotten pretty heated.  Papyrus was clearly upset, though he’d done his best to put on a happy face.  Then he’d started lingering in the room where Sans was working, and Sans recognized the signs that his brother was working up to asking a question.  It had been a while, but he always used to do that as a kid.

“Yeah, Papyrus?”

“When you and Alphys and Toriel find whatever it is you are looking for, Frisk will be able to come home, right?  So really it’s only a matter of time…”

Sans hesitated, but Papyrus deserved an honest answer.  “Yeah, ideally.  That’s what we’re hoping, at least.”

“You… do not sound very confident.”

Sans looked over at Papyrus.  His usual, reassuring self-confidence was worryingly absent.  Sans waved his brother over to him to sit next to him on the couch, and Papyrus went eagerly.  When he was seated, Sans handed him one of the papers from the pile and Papyrus read over the information - the dates, the details, and the color picture of a young child.

"What am I looking at?"

"It's a missing person's report.  When humans go missing, there's a system in place to find them.  Frisk doesn't have one."

Papyrus gave Sans a skeptical look.  "Of course Frisk doesn't have one.  They aren’t missing."

"I mean while they were underground; no one on the surface could have known where they'd gone, and they were down there a while."

Papyrus studied the paper again.  He was frowning, and Sans knew the expression was not because the idea had gone over Papyrus's head, but that he was having a hard time accepting what Sans was trying to tell him.  "So Frisk's mother... didn't look for them?  I know Frisk can be quiet and very prone to hiding at inopportune moments, but could she really not have noticed?”

Sans leaned back against the couch.  “We don’t know the reason for sure, but I don’t think it was that she just didn’t  notice, Pap.”

Papyrus also leaned back against the couch, more slowly and gingerly than Sans had.  “Frisk didn’t live here in the house with us, but I still often notice they are missing.”

“Yeah, Pap, me too.”

“I have not met her, but I do not think Frisk’s mother is the best person for them to live with.”

“Definitely not.”

“So, when you find what you are looking for, when you know for sure what happened…”

Sans sighed.  “It’ll be up to Frisk.”

Papyrus was quiet for several long moments, and Sans looked over at his brother.  There was a pained expression on Papyrus’s face.  “Do you think Frisk would choose to stay with her?”

Toriel told Sans what Frisk said before they left the first time, and he didn’t think she was lying.  He believed that Frisk really meant it, too.  But he also knew that Frisk’s capacity for forgiveness was enormous, especially when it came to the big stuff.  It was a good trait to have, but dangerous.  “I think Frisk is a lot like you, Pap.”

Papyrus smiled a little, of course perceiving the comparison to his friend as a compliment.  “That is kind of you to say, but I’m still not sure I follow?”

“You see the best in people, and you want people to do their best.  Some people won’t take that opportunity, though, because they don’t care.”

Papyrus was frowning, considering.  “I really do believe anyone can change, if they really try.”

“You’re probably right,” Sans agreed, “it’s just that some don’t try.”

Sans wished he hadn’t said anything, because Papyrus’s expression grew even more miserable.  “Frisk is very determined.  They won’t give up easily, will they?”

“That’s sort of what I’m worried about.”  Lying would be easier, but it wouldn’t help anything.  “And… I’m sort of worried about what will happen if they do their best and things still don’t work out.”

“Well,” Papyrus began after a long, quiet moment, “I suppose we will have to stay close to them to help in whatever way we can.”

It really was as simple as that, wasn’t it?  Papyrus had always had a talent for digging straight to the heart of things without worrying about all of the extra stuff.  Which was fine, because Sans was around to deal with the extra stuff for him.  “You’re really smart, Paps.  I hope I’ve told you that already.”

“Well of course I am, brother!”  His smile was huge, an expression that Sans much preferred.  “Who could doubt my intelligence when my skill with puzzles is unparalleled!”  Really getting into his stride now, Papyrus sprang up from the couch.  “And how could Frisk be anything but perfectly fine with two such amazing skeletons looking out for them!”  Papyrus had turned back to look at Sans as though expecting an answer, so he didn’t miss the way Sans cringed slightly at the confident proclamation.  “...Sans?”

Shit.  Definitely not what he wanted to talk about right then.  “It’s nothing, uh, just not the best guy for trying really hard.  You know, past experiences considered.”

“You are trying very hard right now.”  Papyrus’s voice was softer as he sat back down on the couch.  Instead of making Sans feel better it only made him feel so much worse.  “I have not seen you try so hard at anything in a very long time.  It’s… much more like you.”

Much more like him.  Sans wondered how much of his change in motivation Papyrus had picked up on, and then he wondered why he hadn’t wondered about that before.  Papyrus was smart - of course he’d noticed the change.  And the nagging… some days his brother’s nagging was the only reason Sans even got out of bed.  He would have to remember to thank Papyrus someday for all the effort he put into keeping Sans going when Sans felt like giving up.

“I wouldn’t have to try so hard if I’d tried a little harder earlier.”  It was muttered and Sans didn’t really mean for Papyrus to hear it, but they were sitting too close for his brother not to notice.  Sans relented - might as well explain, even if Papyrus didn’t think as much of him after hearing it.  “I knew something was wrong, a long time ago.  I could have asked but I didn’t.”  Just like he’d let Frisk walk down that corridor alone, somehow sure that they’d find some third solution all on their own besides dying or killing the king, like they could talk him out of his promise to the monsters.  It was Frisk; things worked out for Frisk, even if it took a little time and blood.  And when ten, twenty time-skips passed and things weren’t working out?  He’d gone to talk to Toriel, all the way back at the door outside of Snowden, because he’d been bound to break his promise to her from the start and that was as far away from what was happening as he could be.  He’d only confronted Asgore once it didn’t matter anymore, and the reminder was meaningless.  Asgore hadn’t forgotten, and Asgore hadn’t done anything more than exactly what he did to all of the humans that fell underground, exactly what Sans knew he would.  What good was anger now, when it already happened and Frisk had already decided on forgiveness?  

It was just that Sans hadn’t expected to care.  He didn’t care about many things by the time he met Frisk, and he expected any concern for their well-being to roll off his back as easily as most things did.  He made that promise to Toriel, though, and watched the kid solve his brother’s puzzles and quickly become Papyrus’s friend.  Then he watched them journey through the underground to make sure they were as good of a person as they seemed to be, and Alphys was right.  When you watched someone on a journey, you kind of had to root for them.  

Caring was… tiring, and time-consuming, and he was doing a lot more of that these days than he’d prefer.  It opened the door wide open for regret.

“Back when it was just the two of us, when Frisk was having all of those nightmares and Toriel had to go out of town for a while?  I knew something was up.  I should have talked to them then, but I put it off and… here we are.”  There would be a better time for it, he’d thought then, and he was right - dozens of those better moments had passed, and he’d always found a reason to put it off.  Frisk was having an exceptionally good day and he didn’t want to ruin it, or Frisk was having a really bad day after the nightmares had returned yet again and he didn’t want to upset them, or they had stories they wanted to tell him from school and that sounded like a much better conversation.  Truthfully, Sans thought it probably had more to do with clinging to a tentative happiness and worry that, if he questioned it, it would dissolve away as agonizingly as a reset.

Papyrus quietly stared at his hands.  “The first time I babysat Frisk, when they were sick, they insisted on making their own soup.  They were… very determined to do so, as if they thought they were supposed to, even when I commanded that they get some rest.  If you are guilty of not pressing the issue, then I am as well.”

Everything that Sans said today seemed to be the wrong thing.  “Papyrus, that’s not what I meant.  It’s just, people like us don’t try.”

“‘Us?’  Sans, you are nothing like her.”  

Sometimes, Sans really didn’t give Papyrus enough credit for just how easily he could get to the heart of things.  He opened his mouth - to say what, he had no idea - before Papyrus agitatedly motioned for him to stop.  “Whatever it is you have to say, about how you are not doing enough or are not good enough, or anything of that nature, I do not want to hear it.  I am your brother and as such I know you better than anyone.  Also, we have established already that I am very smart.  Therefore, you should believe me when I tell you that you are nothing like her and never will be.  You are trying very hard, Sans, and that means a great deal.”

Sans sighed and let a little of the pressure and the guilt fall from his shoulders.  He could try a little harder to believe in the person that Papyrus saw in him.  “Thanks, Paps.”

~~~

One Friday afternoon you were called to the office during your last class and told to bring your things with you.  Brody Carmichael jeered about how much trouble you were in as you packed your backpack and walked to the door, but you were too worried to be annoyed; if something had happened to one of your friends, surely Toriel would have come to tell you?  Had something happened to Toriel?

When you got to the office, it was Ree waiting for you, smiling.  You smiled tentatively back, confused and even more worried, and the secretary looked concerned.  “Frisk, this woman says she’s your mother?  I thought Toriel…”

You could see the growing frown on Ree’s face; the expression that was forming had never meant good things for anyone.  “This is my mom,” you assured the secretary, who didn’t seem very assured at all.  You turned to Ree.  “Is something going on?  Did something happen?”

She was smiling again, just a little bit smug.  “Not at all, baby, I’m just here to pick you up from school.  You ready to go?”

You were a little hesitant, but you had your backpack and everything, so you guessed you were.  You followed her to her car, and when you climbed in, just to be sure, you asked if she’d told Toriel you were going home with her.

Ree snorted.  “I’m your mother.  I don’t need her permission.”

“I didn’t…  I just mean, she usually takes me home with her in the afternoon.  She might worry.”  She would definitely worry if she didn’t know where you were.  She would worry a lot.  Maybe you should have asked before getting in the car, because Ree was already backing out of the parking spot.

“She’ll know you’re with me, obviously.  You’re always with me on the weekends.”  So Ree hadn’t told her.  “Now, enough about that - since I have the afternoon off for once, what do you want to do?”

Unable to come up with much on the spot, you just suggested the park.  Ree didn’t seem bothered by you lack of creativity, and while she was concentrating on driving, you slipped your phone out of your pocket.  There was already a notification on the screen.

You didn’t have time to read it, though, because in the next moment Ree snapped at you to put it away.  It seemed that Ree’s rules still applied, even though she was breaking all of Toriel’s.  The phone went back in your pocket as you tried to ignore the way it vibrated every few minutes.  You wondered if they were all from Toriel, or if she’d already contacted more of your family to help her.  Guilt gnawed at the pit of your stomach, but you knew that if you upset Ree too much all at once she might take away your phone, and that would be worse for everyone.

You’d made a good choice - your compliance earned you a good mood from Ree, and she asked you how your day had been and listened to the things you told her.  Your best guess was that, mostly, this was a good thing; Ree seemed interested in spending as much time with you as possible, and the best weekends were always the ones where Ree stayed with you at the apartment or took you out places.  The more quality time you spent with your mom, the better your chances of fixing whatever had gone wrong in the first place, and if you could just fix things then maybe everything would balance out and you could split your time more fairly between her and the rest of your family.

The park was also a good choice - the weather was clear and the kids from the local school were just getting out of class, so it wasn’t long before there were plenty of other kids to play with.  You watched Ree carefully, and at your first opportunity you slipped behind a big tree and sent a text to Toriel that you were fine, that Ree had come to check you out early and that you were at the park near the apartment building.

You’d just put the phone away and were about to walk back in your mom’s line of sight before she got suspicious when you looked up and saw Sans watching you from the edge of the park.  You lifted your hand to wave, but he blinked out of existence before returning the gesture.  You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, but he seemed really upset.  Almost angry, really, and that uncomfortable feeling of guilt coiled up at the bottom of your stomach.  Was he angry at you the way your mom was angry at you when you spent time with the rest of your family?  Were you silly - and selfish - for hoping that maybe you could have both?  Despite everything, you still wanted your mom to love you.  Maybe that was a stupid thing to want when so many other people loved you, but it wasn’t a logical thing.  You didn’t think it was something you could just stop wanting.  You hoped you weren’t ruining everything all at once.

You didn’t let yourself linger too long on your worries; you came back out from the other side of the tree just as Ree was starting to look around for you, and you waved to her.  She waved back, smiling and relieved.  Didn’t she deserve a second chance?  Didn’t everyone?

The other kids were a lot of fun to play with, and you made a promise to yourself to come by the park more often on weekends when you were alone.  Ree chatted with the other mothers at the picnic tables like she belonged there and you were a little proud, because you remembered how awkward she felt sometimes around other parents.  When the afternoon and most of the people were gone, Ree pushed you on the swing, and everything but a niggling tendril of guilt felt like things used to feel like a long, long time ago.

The two of you were walking back to the apartment with ice cream when Ree asked you how you’d feel about transferring to the local school.  “I could pick you up in the afternoon like this all the time, and you’d get to be in the same class as a lot of the new friends you made today.  I was talking to some of the other moms, and apparently it’s a really great school - you’d love your new teacher!”

The pit in your stomach grew enormously - she looked so happy, and you wanted to agree with whatever would keep her that happy, but… you wouldn’t see Toriel anymore.  You wouldn’t see any of them anymore, and you couldn’t imagine seeing them  _ even less _ .

Was this the way to fix whatever had broken between you and your mom?  Would the rest of your family be the cost you had to pay to make it work?  You really had been stupid to think that you could have both parts of your family.  What an idiot.

“That… sounds nice,” you replied.  It was the most neutral answer you could manage, and you didn’t think she noticed the way your voice trembled.

~~~

The only reason that Alphys was allowing both her girlfriend and her best friend to inhabit space in her lab/house at the same time was because they’d reached critical levels of nervous energy and she was concerned for the outside word.  Their presence wasn’t doing much for her concentration, but they were mostly taking their aggression out on each other in the form of high-volume arguments and the occasional tossed piece of furniture from Undyne, so at least they weren’t out in the world somewhere causing immense property damage.  She drew the line when Mettaton whipped out a (small, he insisted, as if that made any difference) bomb in retaliation.  She didn’t need that level of distraction.  

Undyne and Mettaton weren’t the only ones feeling tense, even if they were the most potentially destructive of the group.  The incident at the school left everyone shaken.

The scare was weighing heavily on everyone’s minds, but it had also given Alphys an idea.  If they had a solid starting point, they could be sure that they were looking for information in the right area.  Every child was required to attend school, and online school records for the local schools were so much easier to hack into than hospital records.

It took a few tries, but Alphys almost cried when a familiar name and school picture appeared on her screen.

She could’ve just left it at that - the record was more than they thought they could find, it gave them a location to focus on - but the thought of all those people who had met Frisk and their mother was so tempting.  Had Ree ever done something like this before?  What was her reputation at the school?  Would anyone even be willing to tell Alphys that, would it even be legal to ask?

There was only one way to find out, and as much as Alphys despised the idea, she had to try.  She threw a pillow at Mettaton to shut him up and dialed the number.

They picked up on the first ring, and Mettaton and Undyne fell tensely silent.  “Yes hello, I’m, um, c-calling about a student who used to attend your school?  They’re registered at our school this year and w-we realized that none of their previous records have been transferred over - we’re a new facility so our paperwork is kind of a mess right now, but it’s still pretty embarrassing to realize one of our students has s-slipped through the cracks!”  She chucked deprecatingly.  

“Darling, I must absolutely commend you for your skills of deceit.”  Mettaton seemed genuinely delighted and impressed, and Alphys glared at him.

“Their name is Frisk, I… ”  Undyne and Mettaton simultaneously leaned closer as Alphys nodded along with the conversation.  “Y-yes, that’s them.  What?  Yes, they’re fine…  Oh, um, yes, their mother is still in the picture, I…”  Undyne and Mettaton shared a look, and then looked back at Alphys, who was starting to seem distressed.  “Frisk seems to be doing w-well, yes, though of course it’s a tr-transition with their mother…  The move?  What move?  No, I’m sorry, there must have been a misunderstanding, th-the transition I was talking about was that, um, Frisk’s mother recently came back into their life.  ...Yes I’m, um, quite sure that’s the situation, there was an adoption in progress that was interrupted…  She did  _ what _ ?”  

The last word came out as a shriek, and Undyne and Mettaton jumped, unprepared for the outburst.  Alphys was scrambling around on the desk in front of her, searching for something, and long experience taught Undyne to grab a piece of paper for her and Mettaton to supply a pen.  There was no time for gratitude; Alphys snatched the supplies and was scribbling immediately.

“Oh goodness, o-oh goodness that’s not good at all, we, uh, actually only heard from her very recently…  Did this kind of thing happen a lot, while Frisk was attending your school?  I-I ask because we, um, had an incident recently…  Oh no.  I um, I’d better give you Toriel’s number, if that’s okay?  She’s in charge of the school, and she’s also the-the one who wanted to adopt Frisk…”  Alphys gestured frantically again and Mettaton pulled out his phone and read off the number to her as she repeated it into the receiver.  

“Th-thank you so much for telling me all of this, I really appreciate your, your honesty about the situation!  Oh yes, I’ll let you know if anything changes!  Thank you again.”  She hung up the phone.

Mettaton and Undyne stared at Alphys while she stared down at the phone, and then stared at each other as though deciding who should ask.  Neither of them had to.  “Th-that was the front office, at Frisk’s old school.  Ree was supposed to, um, get their records and fill out some paperwork about transferring schools, since Frisk wasn’t registered this school year.  She’s been putting them off.  She’s made it sound as if Frisk has been with her the whole time.”

Alphys put down the phone and sat back heavily in her desk chair.  “And th-that’s not all.  The lady in the office, and some of the teachers, and some of the parents - they have stories.  Th-they can vouch for what kind parent Ree was.  A-and the lady in the office for sure, she’s going to call Toriel and she’s pretty sure other people will too, because some of them have considered calling the police.  They were worried, after that abrupt move.”  Alphys leaned forward, leaning her elbows on the desk and resting her head in her hands.  “Witnesses.  We have potential witnesses, a lot of them.  We have  _ leverage _ .”  She started giggling and it was a little bit hysterical, but mostly it just sounded relieved.

There was a moment of tense silence.  “Alphys, darling, that’s brilliant.”  The compliment came out as a whisper in respect of the atmosphere.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised, if it’s coming from Alphys then of course it’s brilliant!”  Undyne’s shout obliterated the atmosphere beyond repair.  She physically removed her girlfriend from her chair and swung her around in a circle.  Alphys hung on tight - she was still only just starting to get used to being casually and lovingly manhandled by her girlfriend.  “What do we do first?  Can we go get Frisk now?”

“My car is right outside, I’ll drive!”  The car key was already in his hand.

“No no, not yet,” Alphys insisted as she was gently placed back onto the ground.  “We need to call Sans and Toriel first, and then we can decide on our next step.”  Alphys took a deep breath.  “But we can… we can finally start doing something.”

~~~

You were alone in the apartment again.  The sky outside was gray, and you felt gray, too.  The color hung over the apartment like a heavy blanket, muffling all noise besides the sharp ticking of the clock.  You lay on the couch and let the silence and the feeling of gray push you deeper into the cushions with their stifling weight.

It shouldn’t really bother you, it was just that Ree had been trying to spend more time with you lately, and you’d gotten used to not being alone as often.  She couldn’t spend every minute of the day with you every weekend, though - that would be asking for too much.  You’d called some of your family earlier, but nobody answered, and you told yourself very firmly that you were not upset.  They had lives, and things to do that didn’t include you.  It wasn’t personal, they were just busy.

Sans was probably not mad at you anymore.  He’d probably forgiven you for whatever made him angry that day at the park.  You hoped so.  He hadn’t picked up his phone either.

You’d spent the quiet morning doing some thinking.  Ree talked about the school in town all the time, the way she used to talk about a bigger house and how everything would be better soon.  She talked about you staying and part of you was happy, because that probably meant she still wanted you, but part of you didn’t know how many more ways you could agree without agreeing.

A part of you was worried that your agreement to Ree’s plan wasn’t required.  Ree kept breaking rules - if she was with you on the weekend you sometimes couldn’t even call Toriel, and she checked you out of school all the time, sometimes even on weeknights.  The secretary in the front office of the school had told you more than once that you didn’t have to go with her, but you did.  She was your mom - and you were going to have to go with her eventually anyway, and she’d be angry.  It wasn’t as if she’d asked your permission for any of that, so it wasn’t very likely that you’d get any warning the next time she decided to change something.

You didn’t like that she broke the rules, and you wished she’d stop doing it.  It was hard enough trying to balance two families already, but trying to make her understand that was impossible.  In her mind, the two of you were each other’s only family.

You wondered why she’d been allowed to choose someone besides you when she wouldn’t let you do the same, and then you quickly buried the thought because it was attached to the biggest of those really big questions you’d been trying not to ask.  You pulled out your phone to see if you had any replies yet to the texts you’d sent out when you couldn’t reach anyone, but there’d been no response.  They were still busy.  Still very, very busy.

Sometimes it felt as though the monsters were not just one town and a single bus ride away, even though you knew that was the case.  Sometimes it felt like they were much farther…

The bus ran on the weekends.

You sat up and looked around, as though maybe someone had heard the half-formed idea that had just run through your head and was going to fuss about it being too dangerous.  No one came forward.  You were alone because Ree broke the rules, and it had occurred to you that you could break rules, too.

The bus was pulling away from the stop by the time you considered how much trouble you might get into for actually going through with it.  There was a hollow gnawing at the pit of your stomach at the thought of both Ree and Toriel being angry with you at the same time, but you didn’t pull the string to stop the bus.  You really wanted to go home, just for a little while.  You really didn’t want to be in the apartment alone.  You hoped it was okay to be a little bit selfish, just this once.

Maybe not, though.  Your selfishness wasn’t working out so well - your friends weren’t home, and while you were glad that they hadn’t been ignoring your messages, you probably would have been okay with it if it meant someone answered the door when you knocked.  Maybe they had all gone somewhere together to do something fun (without you).  It wasn’t their fault that you couldn’t ever do things with them on the weekends, and they didn’t know you were coming over.  You couldn’t just expect them to wait on you all the time.

If you went home right then, no one would even have to know that you’d been out.  You tried to convince yourself that it was the best option and the one most likely to keep you out of trouble, but something in you felt off.  You’d told yourself, over and over, that your family was only a bus ride away; taking the bus but not finding them made it feel as though maybe that wasn’t true.  Maybe the distance you felt wasn’t something that you could measure in miles, and that was really scary to think about because you didn’t know what to do with that kind of distance.  If you could just talk to one of them, make sure that everything felt the same…

You opened the contact list on your phone again.  Another try couldn’t hurt.  If you left too many messages, though, they would think you were in some kind of trouble and worry.  You scrolled up and down through the list automatically, weighing your options.  Maybe you’d been selfish enough for one day.

As you were about to pocket the phone and walk back to the bus station, a contact scrolled into view that you hadn’t tried yet.  You couldn’t imagine why - he had never once said no when you asked to visit for tea.  Hope and determination reigniting in your heart, you dialed the number.

Asgore was, of course, absolutely delighted to have you over.  His enthusiasm for visitors never lessened - you had to insist on cutting a visit short once because he was obviously sick and almost burned himself with the boiling water in the kettle - and though he had concerns about your presence in town on a weekend without Ree, he smiled widely and welcomingly when he opened the door for you.

“Frisk, it is good to see you.  It has been far too long.”  He wrapped you up in one of his wonderful hugs, and you felt warm and safe in a way you hadn’t realized that you hadn’t felt in a while.  Your worries couldn’t stand up to the feeling - they melted away to make more room for the overwhelming feeling of home.

Your family hadn’t gone anywhere.  Your family wasn’t going to go anywhere, weren’t going to leave you, even if they weren’t physically close to you.  You had to trust that, even when it was difficult to remember.

Asgore put the kettle on the stove and sat across from you at the table while you both waited for the whistle.  “This is quite an unexpected visit,” Asgore began.  “I had heard from Sans that you are spending quite a bit of time with Ree on the weekends.  I did not have the impression that you had many weekends to spend here with us anymore.”

You fidgeted and looked down at the table.  Would it be better to lie?  You didn’t really want to, but you’d only just gotten here…

“I daresay I am more surprised that everyone is busy elsewhere during your visit.  This does not seem like an opportunity they would miss.”  You looked up sharply to see that Asgore was still smiling, but there was a knowing look in his eye.  You forgot sometimes that he used to be a dad - he’d probably put a stop to all kinds of rule-breaking before you were ever around.  Plus he’d been a king, so that was even more rule-breaking that he’d probably dealt with.  You were at a serious disadvantage.

“And you received Ree’s permission to come here alone before leaving, did you not?”  You looked down at the table.  Your non-answer was plenty enough of an answer for Asgore.  He sighed.  “That was very irresponsible, Frisk.  No one knew where you were, or would have known where to find you if something happened.”  His expression was not unkind, but very stern.

Suddenly, you seemed much less defiant and much more like an idiot.  You were going to get into trouble for this, and your family probably would, too.  Ree would find a way to blame them somehow.  She’d find a way to keep you locked up better.

If you told Asgore that Ree always left without telling you where she was going, you wondered if he would call her irresponsible, too.  Maybe adults were allowed to do that kind of thing.

The tea kettle whistled and disrupted your attention.  Asgore stood up and poured a mug for you both - teacups weren’t quite enough tea for the large boss monster.  He placed yours in front of you; his smile was much friendlier and a little sad, and you wondered if he’d missed you as much as you’d missed him.  “I see no reason why the tea should go to waste.  I will take you home after we have finished.  Until then, however, would you care for a walk through the garden?”

You nodded enthusiastically, standing and carefully carrying your mug with you as you led the way to the yard.  The park near the apartment building didn’t have anything on Asgore’s garden.  Most gardens didn’t have anything on Asgore’s garden.  He showed you the new additions and the progress of plants that had only been seedlings the last time you were there.  The weather was lovely and you took very small sips of tea, hoping to prolong your visit.  You were pretty sure Asgore knew, but he didn’t comment on it and he didn’t run out of things to show you.

When there was no more tea and Asgore was putting the mugs into the sink before taking you home, you found the nerve to ask a question.  It was one of the big questions that you never managed to ask Ree.  Staring at his broad back, you steeled your resolve.

“Can parents make mistakes?”

Asgore seemed startled; he turned around and regarded you seriously.  “Everyone can make mistakes, Frisk.  That does not change when one becomes a parent.”

“I know that, but I mean big mistakes.”  You didn’t know how to explain what you meant without providing the only example you could think of, and you didn’t feel ready to talk about that yet.

“Big mistakes?”

You nodded.

Asgore considered your question seriously.  “I suppose the possibility exists, depending on the individual.”

It still wasn’t quite the question you wanted to ask or the answer you were looking for.  Asgore seemed to sense this and waited patiently while you changed the words around in your head.

“Why do… why do parents do bad things, sometimes?  Is it always because they have bad kids?”

Asgore looked… very sad.  You worried that you’d said too much or said the wrong thing.  Did he think you were talking about him?  “Do you mean bad things in general or bad things involving their children?”

“The second one,” you whispered.

He walked up to you - as large as he was, his footsteps were very soft.  You could still hear the ticking of a clock somewhere and birdsong outside.  When he was right in front of you, he knelt down on one knee, much closer to you.  He brushed your hair away from your face gently.  “Frisk, if someone has done something to you, you must tell us.  Do not be afraid to speak the truth, my child.”

You still couldn’t tell him.  You didn’t know why.  She deserved another chance, she was working so hard to make things okay again, and you… all you could think about was what you didn’t have.  That was selfish.  You were being so selfish.  Why couldn’t you just be happy that she’d come back?  Isn’t that what you wanted?  

“I just want to know why.”  The biggest question you’d ever asked hung in the air between you and Asgore, and from the torn and very pained expression on his face, you knew he didn’t have the answer.

When he said as much, you nodded.

“Please remember that we love you, Frisk,” Asgore insisted, trying to ease a wound in the middle of you that he couldn’t quite reach.  “If you need us, we are very close.  Even if we are busy, we will make time for you.”

You nodded again, and Asgore couldn’t think of anything else to say.  It was time for you to go home.

Asgore didn’t have a car - you remembered that Papyrus drove him around places sometimes, but the controls were too small.  Instead, he somehow managed to fit himself next to you on the bus back to the next town, attracting quite a few stares and responding to them with friendly greetings.  The other passengers in the bus grew visibly more relaxed as it became clear that it was in Asgore’s nature to be kind.

The door was unlocked when you reached it.  The easy turn of the handle made you pause for a moment - you thought you locked it.  Maybe you were wrong, but you thought...

Ree was waiting for you.  You froze in the doorway.  You’d never seen her so angry before.  Part of you wanted turn right around and go back.

You took a deep breath, stepped inside, and closed the door behind you.  You had to try.  You had to get through to her somehow.  She was mad that you left, you knew that, but maybe now she would understand.

When you didn’t say anything, Ree spoke first.  “Where were you, Frisk?”  It wasn’t actually a question, and it was dangerously quiet.

You were determined to stay and to talk, but you hadn’t yet taken your hand off of the door handle.  You found it hard to move at all.  “I was with Asgore.  I went to visit, and we had tea and talked about his garden.”

Her smile was thin, and you recognized it.  That smile meant that she was angry, and that she was determined to stay angry, and that she wasn’t really listening.  “Of course you were with the monsters.  Since I found you I can’t get a word out of you that isn’t about monsters.  Did the monsters give you permission to ride the bus alone without informing me?”

“No…”

“Oh?  Then I suppose I should be grateful that you decided to come home at all,” she finally said, and her tone was as cold and closed as her expression.  “You know best, after all, don't you?”

“I…”

“Are you just going to stand there at the door all evening?  Come  _ in _ , Frisk, because if you go through that door again without my permission I  _ will _ lock it behind you.”  Reluctantly, you let go of the doorknob and took a few steps closer to her.  Sighing heavily with impatience, she walked up to you and pulled you farther into the room by the wrist.  She only let go once she was between you and the door.

“Do you know how scared I was when I went back and couldn’t find you, Frisk?  Do you have any idea?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“But you did it anyway.  You knew how much it would hurt me and you  _ did it anyway _ , because I don't meant  _ shit _ to you anymore, do I?”

You're heart sank down to the bottom of your feet.  This wasn't how this was supposed to go.  You'd never meant to hurt her  “You do!  You do mean a lot to me, I love you!  It's just…”

“It's just  _ what _ , Frisk?”  You flinched at her tone - dangerously flat.

“It's just that, I love them too.”

Ree looked as though you'd just slapped her.  You felt a churning in your gut - you were such an idiot, asking for everything like that was actually possible.

“You aren't theirs,” she whispered finally, voice hoarse.  “You aren't  _ theirs _ , Frisk.  You’re mine, you're mine and you're… you're all I have.”

She was crying, and you didn't know what to do.  You should hug her, but that wound way down deep in the middle of you made you hesitate.  If you were really all she had left, then  _ why _ …

The silence in the room stretched on and on, and you felt like the distance between you grew longer with every passing minute.  Ree cried, and when she finally stopped she collapsed on the couch, head in her hands.  She took a deep breath and asked you a question.

“What do you want from me, Frisk?  What more can I  _ possibly do _ to make you happy?  I’ve done everything I can think of but it’s still not enough!”  She was right, she was trying her best.  Why wasn’t that enough for you?

“I want to know why.”

“Why what?”

“Why did you do it?”  The questions came out quietly but forcefully, and they sounded loud in the quiet room.  “Was it something I did?  Why did you leave me?”

Ree stared at you.  Her face was pale.  You waited for her answer, the answer you absolutely had to have if you were going to fix it, but it didn’t come.  Her face was blank; you couldn’t even tell what she was thinking.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to suggest, Frisk,” she finally whispered, voice strained.  “I don’t think I appreciate the implications you’re making, and I will not have you speak to me in that tone.  You’re grounded until further notice.  Give me your phone.”

She couldn’t ground you, you had to go home.  You stared at her outstretched arm and you considered running for the door.  You should have stayed with Asgore.  If you’d pleaded enough, he might have listened and let you.  But you couldn’t be grounded, you didn’t know what she meant by that and you were worried.  She couldn’t keep you here.  She  _ couldn’t _ .

“ _ Your phone, Frisk! _ ”

You’d never heard her scream at you like that and you handed over the phone, afraid of what else she might do.  She snatched it out of your hand and walked to her room without another word to you, turning off the light in the living room as she went even though you were still standing, frozen, in the place where she’d left you.

~~~

When you were sure she was sleeping, you crept into her room and stole your phone.  Was it stealing if it was already yours?  You weren't sure, and your mind rolled the question around as you crept out onto the balcony and sat as close to the bars as you could.  The gap between the bars and the balcony was just wide enough that you could slip your legs through and let them dangle.  The question was really just a distraction from what you were about to do.

You typed out the number and hit the call button without giving yourself time to think about it and change your mind.  You didn't even really think about who you were calling, but it didn't surprise you all that much when Sans was the one who answered.  Who was better at secrets than him?

He sounded sleepy when he picked up the phone.  “Yeah?  Who’s this?”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.”  What time was it?  How long had you sat alone in that dark living room?

“Kiddo.”  The nickname was filled with so much relief that you felt a little guilty about wondering if Sans was mad at you.  You hadn't talked to him in a while.  “Don't worry about that, buddy, it's good to hear from you whenever.  Something going on?”

You didn't know how to start.  You looked up at the open sky, but there weren't any more stars there than usual.  “Wasn't there supposed to be a meteor shower tonight?  Did you see it?”  The local news station had been really excited about it.  It was exactly the kind of thing the two of you never would have missed, if things were different.

“Nah.  Not really in the mood, you know how it is.  How about you?  Sounds like something you’d like.”

“I can't see any stars here.  Too close to the city.”

“Oh.  Next time you’re here, yeah?  We’ll plan ahead for the next one.”  Next time you were there.  You knew that both of you were thinking about how long that would be.

It was quiet on both ends of the call for a long time.  Sans took a breath as if you say something, but you cut in first.  “Sans, can I tell you a secret?”

He paused for a moment, but his voice didn't sound hesitant when he spoke again.  “Sure, kid.  If it’s something you’re ready to talk about then I’m ready to listen.”

You didn’t think about the best way to say it.  You’d only gotten as far as you had by not thinking very much - if you stopped now, you might choke up.  “Just before I climbed the mountain, my mom left me at a bus stop.”

“She...”

“She said she would be right back.  We were supposed to be moving, I didn’t even know where to, and all the stuff was packed up in the car.  It didn’t make sense for her to just not come back so I waited there until it got dark.  Then I went home.”

“Frisk…”  

“I-I got this stupid idea that maybe, since we were driving so close to that mountain that kids always told stories about, maybe she’d gotten lost on it somewhere and that’s why she didn’t come back.  Because she couldn’t have just… she couldn’t have…”  Your voice was starting to tremble and sound uneven.  You paused and took a couple of deep breaths.  There were a lot of things Sans wanted to say, you knew, but he let you calm down so you could continue.  He probably knew that you needed to say it now while you still could.  “So I went up there.  And then I fell down.  And I met all of you.  You… know the rest from there, I guess.”

Sans was quiet for a long time.  When he spoke, you couldn’t figure out his tone - he sounded calm, but not his usual sort of calm.  “Frisk, can I ask you a question?”

“Uh, sure.”  It wasn’t like you had anything left to hide, right?

“You know that none of this - what your mom did, and all of this getting pulled back and forth - none of any of what’s been going on is your fault, right?”  He was still calm, but the connection must not have been as strong as it seemed, because his voice sounded a little shaky.

You stared out at the lights you could see, the ones on the ground.  How could he be so sure, when you were at the middle of all of this mess?

“Kid?”

“I kept wondering… what it was that I’d done, that was so bad that she would… do that.  She always liked going places without me, but she always came back.  And I thought if I could figure it out and do better this time…”  Look at how well that had worked.  Nobody was happy.  You couldn't make her happy.

You couldn't make her happy, and you weren't sure if it was worth trying anymore.

“I can't fix this,” you whispered, finally getting to what this was really about.  “Why can't I fix this?”

“‘Cause it's not yours to fix, Frisk.  You didn't break anything.  You can't fix something like this by yourself anyway.”

“I fixed the underground.”

“But not by yourself, am I right?”  

He was right.  You had never really been alone down there.  You felt alone now, though, and you didn’t know what to do about it.  “I want to come home.”

“You will, kiddo, real soon.  We’re gonna get you home, Frisk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frisk needs, like, eleventy-billion hugs.


End file.
